


The Edge of Perfect

by AnonymousPresence



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Ministry of Magic, Multi, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-10-28 10:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10829391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPresence/pseuds/AnonymousPresence
Summary: Hermione believed her life was perfect. The war was over, her friends were moving on and happy, and she had a successful career. However when it came to her personal life—her romantic life—it was an area filled with once in a while flings with a certain Quidditch player and she was perfectly fine; It gave them both freedom. It wasn’t until not one, but two Slytherins made themselves dominate in Hermione’s so called perfect life that she noticed it wasn’t completely perfect after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly do not know what this is. . . Oh wait! Yes I do. It's a distraction from real life and absolutely has no plot whatsoever. 
> 
> Please Enjoy!

 

* * *

 

Hermione Granger’s life was quite perfect, she would say. After the war was finally over, it was time to rebuild Wizarding Britain and purge it’s plaguing pureblood supremacy. She went back to Hogwarts for her final year, scored Outstandings on all of NEWTs, and obtained a position in the Ministry.

Wouldn’t expect anything less of Hermione Granger.

It took days—weeks really—to put together proper trials for all the Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers who aided him during the war. Hermione herself wasn’t involved very much with the trials, only to speak for or against someone.

She remembered that her eyes clashed with silver as she stared at Draco Malfoy, restrained, and nearly shoved before the Wizengamot for his trial. Harry had just spoken for Narcissa Malfoy nee Black moments ago and she was sentenced to house arrest, wand monitoring for three years, and payments from the House of Malfoy to compensate for the war. It was far better than Azkaban, where Lucius Malfoy was sentenced.

When Draco was next to be tried, she, Harry, and surprisingly Ron spoke for him when he had not revealed their identities to Bellatrix Lestrange and had defected. As a child brought up in war, Hermione had enunciated that it there was no choices for those brought up in those types of households.

They were only a product of their environment and still had humanity inside of them.

Many of the other Junior Death Eaters, such as Gregory Goyle and Theodore Nott, found themselves at the mercy of the Wizengamot with similar conditions, sentenced to house arrest, or return to Hogwarts to retake their final year, and wand monitoring for two years after their graduation.

Harry preached and demanded Severus Snape’s recognition for his immeasurable sacrifice and loyalties to Albus Dumbledore and to the Order of the Phoenix. Harry wanted his name clean and to be seen as a war hero, and not as the greasy traitorous professor who killed Dumbledore.  

When Hermione was finished with school, the Golden Girl dug her lioness claws into the system of the Ministry to shred the entire place apart. Not on her own, of course. The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt and many witches and wizards were doing everything in their power to cleanse the corruption within the Ministry, all the while Harry and Ron were doing their part to become Aurors. The Sacred Twenty Eight was in shambles, as the last of their bloodlines were lost within the war in either death itself or locked away in Azkaban.

When they had finished Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott had taken over their House Seat, and started to work in the Ministry. A reluctant Harry had also reclaimed the seat for the House of Potter, though he wanted little to do with the politics and more so with the wizarding law enforcement.

It wasn’t nearly as shocking to see that war had changed all of them. She was faced with little resistance and perhaps just a bit of reluctance when she had started to fix the mess left by a certain toad-face bitch.

Speaking of toad-face bitch, Hermione was not so secretly pleased when Dolores Umbridge was placed into Azkaban for _multiple_ reasons.

But that was just the cherry on top.

Now, as the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she was able to construct werewolf rights— _Lupin Laws_ —and she was currently working on a way to make the wolfsbane potion more affordable while still effective, and perhaps in only one dose instead of multiple. While at first there had been an argument with the few older members of the Wizengamot against the right for _horrid creatures,_ it was at the insistence of the younger generation, and surprisingly Draco Malfoy himself who had spoke up on Hermione’s behalf that people all around Europe were inflicted during Greyback’s derange mauling of innocent people. That alone did not make them _horrid creatures._

He had even mentioned Remus Lupin, the _wizard_ whom the law was named after, had taught students in Hogwarts to defend themselves, and had died a war hero alongside his wife, his mate.

It was safe to say that Malfoy had a soft spot for Remus, because of his closeness to Teddy once his mother and his aunt Andromeda had made amends.

Even Theodore Nott, whom she had worked with to put together proper rebuttals to get the purebloods on her side, had spoken to pass her law. Two powerful families both had quieted the outbursts and resistance when they had teamed up with a third of the Golden Trio.

In fact, she had been working with Nott and Malfoy through her years in the Ministry. While they had attended Hogwarts together for their final year, the pair of Slytherins had kept to themselves. Now she practically saw Nott—whom granted her permission to call him _Theo_ —every day. Since he had been brought up in a pureblood home, he had a vast amount of knowledge about their culture that Hermione had yet to truly understand, _begrudgingly._

Theo was warm and pleasant only to those whom he wanted to show affection, and at first she believed that he was cold and distant. But working alongside with him, she had begun to understand his personality and he began accepting her as more than just a silly little muggleborn witch trying to change to world. He was quiet, but his eyes were expressive and his lips always twitched in his own ways of conveying his true thoughts.

She was even on decent terms with Draco Malfoy. While the war had drastically changed his views and he had been reserved in the few years after the war, now he seemed like the same prat from Hogwarts. He never held any malice, but he was still a git. Picking little arguments with Ron or Harry when he saw them in her office, always commenting about her hair or her wardrobe, just going out of his way to sneer at people.

It was sad to say she was used to it by now.

He wasn’t as easy to become amicable co workers with as Theo had been, but as a begrudgingly excellent potioneer—he was working on becoming a potions master—he was working with Hermione on the solutions with the wolfsbane potion. Sometimes she wanted to hex the ferret silly, but she found that she enjoyed Malfoy’s presence. . . in moderation, of course. He was witty and smart, always engaging her into intellectual arguments.

She just believed he liked the sound of his own voice.

Working with her on such a project was good for him. He would be able to rebuild himself and his reputation, as well as his family name.

As far as her personal life went, well, she was content. After the war, she and Ron fumbled a bit after their rather hasty kiss in the Chamber of Secrets. They were sweet, to put it simply. Hermione wanted to take on the Ministry, and even the world, but Ron just wanted to settle down from all the exhaustion the war had brought, alongside his tiring job. They had dated for a year before finally breaking up. It was small smiles and awkward hugs, but their friendship meant more to them than bitter resentment of a relationship that simply wasn’t meant to be.

He was now married Susan Bones and was expecting his second child. The pair was adorable and they had complimented each other so wonderfully well. Susan never had a problem with Hermione when she and Ron shared a hug that was far longer than friends would normally embrace. He kissed her forehead, and she leaned her head on his chest. In fact, Susan had cried because she was so happy that their friendship was strong and unyielding to whatever life had thrown their way.

Hermione cried at Harry and Ginny’s massive wedding planned by Molly, as much as the pair hated the spotlight. She was just so ridiculously happy to see her friend, lost in the eyes of his lover, dancing like it was just the two of them. Harry was finally happy. Losing his parents, brought up by horrible people, thrown into a whole other world, fighting his entire life, defeating a madman, and now he was finally at ease. Finally away from war. Finally able to truly _live_.

They too, were expecting another child, much to Harry’s panic and elation. He and Ginny moved into Godric's Hollow, into the cottage that his parents once lived. The home of the Ancient House of Black, left in Harry’s name by Sirius, was remodeled and cleansed of all dark and cursed objects to become an orphanage for the Wizarding Britain.

Hermione Granger was single, taking on the Ministry just like she planned it. Of course she had a few one night stands, a date here and there, but she had always broke them off.

She was fine on her own.

It wasn’t until not one, but two men made themselves dominate in Hermione’s so called perfect life that she noticed it wasn’t completely perfect after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Her heels clicked against the floors in such a way that most of the Ministry knew just who was marching through the halls. Hermione was confident in her intelligence and when she was walking through the Ministry, she didn’t want anyone to get in her way of her destination.

Not that anyone really intercepted her, with the exception of Harry, Ron, the Minister himself, her friends, her co workers. . . well, perhaps she would stop for anyone, but once they saw her walking in a determined gait, they always stepped aside.

In her arms, she carried multiple files and three ancient tomes. Usually she had no problem shrinking them and shoving them into her purse, but the books she held were to be handled lightly and with care; she was terrified that she would damage them. While she hugged them to her chest she had two cups floating behind her from the muggle coffee shop on the same street as her flat. She had charmed them not to spill and to keep them hot while she traveled to the Ministry.

Her hair was pulled into a french twist, but a few tendrils of hair escaped and bounced along with her strides. The witch nodded and smiled as others greeted her ‘good morning Miss Granger!’ before she passed her office door. She didn’t bother to go inside to drop off her belongings and instead, she stopped at the door next to hers.

Adjusting her grip on her books, Hermione rasped her knuckles against the wood in a slight rhythmic beat to let the person on the other side know just who was there. Normally it was polite to wait until the other had granted her permission to enter, but instead, she didn’t wait for any indication, as she knew he was always rather free at this time.

“Theo,” she greeted as she stepped inside of the office before gently nudging the door with her foot to close it and glanced up at the handsome man sitting at the large desk in the room.

Theodore Nott peeked up at her over the rim of his glasses while bent over parchment with a muggle pen—her suggestion to try it out had been successful—poised in his hand. He graced her with a small twitch of his lips that never failed to brighten her smile before nodding to the seat in front of his desk. Though she barely needed the gesture as she was already sitting herself down, placing one of the to-go cups in front of him and gently placed the pile of work on his desk.

Never would she think that a pureblood would try something from a muggle coffee shop. It had all started two years ago. Theo was in her office as they discussed over reports when she taken a sip of her coffee. The Slytherin chuckled and commented on her slight addiction and she mocked him and _of course_ bated for him to try and reject to power of coffee. The next morning, she had brought a cup just for him for a week straight, always getting him something different each time so that he would find something he actually prefered. It turned out Theo liked sweet things.

But he only requested his muggle coffee on Mondays, as he claimed he was not an addict.

She took a sip of her own drink before shifted in her chair and waited patiently for the wizard to finish. After a moment of furrowed brows and furiously writing with the pen, his gaze shifted to her with his complete attention.

She couldn't help but to be captured by his eyes, as most of the women in the Ministry did, but she gave him a smile in greeting. He was her co worker, after all, and she considered him a friend.

“Good morning. I hope I am not interrupting,” she said primly, as she did almost every time she found herself in his office. He was patient to listen to Hermione’s rambling rants and he had a sharp mind to speak with her, engaging the witch to think outside of her ‘righteous Gryffindor ways.’ Her own head was usually swimming with absurdly too much information and certain outcomes and little details were Theo’s specialty. She would like to think he didn’t mind, as he had yet to kick her out of his office since they had both started working together five years ago.

His tanned face graced her with a content expression, which was the best she could get out of the taciturn man. “Good morning, Hermione,” he gave her full attention, placing the pen down—he had a habit of twirling it around during meetings—and turned fully to her. His eyes caught the muggle coffee cup and he made this warm, rumbling sound that always made her shiver as he reached over and took the cup. “Thank you, as always.”

Her eyes trailed over his slender fingers, over the Nott family ring, over his hand and lingered on his _deliciously_ toned forearm that was exposed due to his crisp white sleeves of his button up shirt were rolled up.

Oh _Merlin_ ; she did _not_ just think that!

She allowed herself a huff of a laugh at her less than appropriate thoughts while at work. If she must be honest with herself, she would admit Theodore Nott was an attractively fit man. Many of the women of the Ministry fell over their own feet to gain some sort of interaction with the ex-Death Eater.

It was a shame he was gay, but a witch could certainly admire.

Theo quirk a brow at her snicker, yet did not say a word.

The pair dove into their work. Theo spoke while Hermione furiously wrote notes, careful to not write in the ancient tomes like she usually did with her own books. During their research, she had moved closer to the man, scooting the chair to the other side so she was to Theo’s right instead of directly in front of him. He too, had moved his chair so it he was at the edge of his chest, their heads bent forward to pour over their work.

Sometimes Hermione’s mind lurched to a complete stop as she felt the heat of Theo’s body in their close proximity. It seeped through her skin and traveled through her body, through her lungs, over her heart, and then up to her brain. It was like he made her stupid as her thoughts flatlined and solely focused on his heat. Never before she had to deal with issues such as this. Harry and Ron were both physically and emotionally closer to her and she didn’t feel like some sort of brain dead bint attracted only to pretty men.

But then she exhaled through her nose and shook her head, trying to force her intelligent mind to restart.

Then there were some moments when Hermione was so absorbed in her work, Theo would stare at the wayward spiraling curls that bounced practically in front of his nose. Sometimes, he had to fight to urge to twirl it around his pen and watch it spring back once he released it.

After some time, the witch let out a large sigh, her back hitting the chair and she stretched in a cat-like manner to get the kinks out of her muscles from being hunched over a few hours. When she heard Theo chuckle, she opened her eyes and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You have ink on your cheek again.”

 _Of course she did_. She rolled her eyes, huffing as she swiped at the offending cheek. Just when she was open her mouth to thank Theo, the door to his office burst opened without warning, nor knocking at all and spicy cologne filled the office. It wasn’t at all suffocating, but her nose could pick up that scent anywhere and she groaned.

Draco Malfoy strode into the room and Hermione couldn’t stop her huff of annoyance. She wasn’t due to see him until the end of the week to check on his work with the potion. But being around Theo normally guaranteed seeing the ferret at least _once_ more than that.

His steel colored eyes caught Theo’s quickly and what looked to be a genuine smile graced his lips, making his pointy face look softer and a bit less intimidating. . . though she was never intimidated by the blonde pratt.

But then Malfoy’s eyes snapped to the girl, leaning on the corner of Theo’s desk and sneered at her. “Granger,” he greeted, before walking around the desk, stopping _between_ the two and leaned himself against the small amount of desk between her and his _boyfriend_.

Her eyes narrowed and a frown pulled at her lips as she was practically faced with his _arse._ She tried not to snort of his dramatics and poked his behind with her pen.

“Honestly, Malfoy? Move your arse!”

The blonde glanced over his shoulder to peer down at the little witch. “Admit it Granger; you like my arse.”

She scoffed. “I prefer Theo’s, actually.”

Nott laughed aloud, unable to keep his mirth in for too long. That usually happened when the Gryffindor and the Slytherin clashed together. Theo was comfortable around them both enough to let himself relax, his face showing more emotion and a blank mask, his lips slip out whatever was at the tip of his tongue. Besides, the banter between them was always entertaining to watch.

Malfoy made no point to move, except even closer into Hermione’s space, which she had grumbled.

“I’m not above hexing you, prat.”

Again, he ignored her and she sighed, scooting away a bit from the blonde. She folded her arms, waiting for him to do _whatever it was_ that he barged in there to do.

“I hope you are free for lunch; if not, I am not above to dragging you out of your bloody office,” Malfoy said to Theo.

Hermione didn’t even know the time—nor did she know it was close to lunch hour. Her lips quirked into a frown as her mind flew over the things that she still needed to do before the end of her day.

Theo barely let out a snort as he began tidying up his desk, while Malfoy snatched up the pen to twirl it around—a habit he apparently gotten from Theo. Green eyes flickered up to her own and Theo gave her a slight apologetic smile.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he began speaking, because they both knew Draco _would_ be dramatic and cause a scene for the whole Ministry to gossip about, but then the blonde ferret interrupted.

“If your little meeting is _oh so important,_ I suppose Granger can come along as well,” Malfoy sighed, all the while not really looking at her, nor was he speaking _to her._ Hermione had long gotten over his dramatics and git-like attitude towards her. None of it held the malice that it once had when they were children. He then turned to her and managed to sneer at her yet wink at the same time. She graced him with a roll of her eyes before lifting herself out of the chair.

“No need for your heartfelt invitation, _Draco,_ ” she watched with satisfaction as his eyebrow twitched just slightly at the use of his given name. She then turned to Theo, who was watching the two of them with a strange look on his face—none that she could decipher. “Theo, I will catch you later, then.”

“ _Salazar_ help him,” Malfoy muttered but she chose to ignored him.

“Did you bring your lunch?” Theo asked her, ignoring Draco’s banter. The witch shrugged, waving her hand idly.

“I will eat later,” she murmured, her eyes staring at the reports she scooped back into her arms along with her coat and purse. So she missed how the brunette frowned at her afterthought of an answer, nor the pinch of his eyebrows he did when wasn't particularly happy. Nor did she see Draco watching Theo with a calm, thoughtful face. When she did finally pick her head back up, she fixed them—mostly Theo—a smile. “Enjoy your lunch you two.” She spun back around, walking out the door and slightly tilted her head back to call over her shoulder. “And I hope you choke on your food, _Draco_!”

She heard Theo’s chuckling chasing behind her as the door swung shut.

 

* * *

 

Hermione finally made her way to her office for the first time that day. She unlocked the door with a wave of her hand and walked inside.

It was similar to Theo’s, though a bit smaller and his was more embellished with more expensive items that she usually rolled her eyes at. He had a personal stationery set with his family’s emblem stamp, thick, rich in color parchment along with vivid wax that _cannot_ be used on anything else but this stationary set. She didn’t know why he just didn’t keep someone like that home, but of course, she imagined he had another.

Hermione used to have her own, shop bought stationary, muggle and wizarding alike, but now she had her very own personal set. It was a gift from Theodore last Christmas that was a beautiful collaboration of plum and navy with gold accents that she did _not_ want to know if they were truly gold or not.

While his walls were bare, hers held pictures, some moving and some stilled of her friends and growing family: Ron’s and Harry’s family, her parents, the Weasley’s and all their extension, and even little Teddy. On the odd occasion Draco was in her office, alongside Theo, he had pointed out that the two Slytherins were not on her wall, and he was offended that she did not see the pair as at _least_ friends. She had scoffed and later that day, she had a small photo of the two of them in the corner of her office.

At least Malfoy was pleased.

She waved her hand, her coat floated over to the hooks along the wall and she flopped herself on her extremely comfortable office chair—Draco’s Christmas present to her, even though it was forest green just to ruffle her feathers.

There was a soft tapping at the window behind her and the witch turned, smiling softly at the familiar owl. She reached over, unlatching the window to let him inside. The brown spotted scops owl flew to the stand on her desk made just for him and his large eyes turned to her, a letter clutched in his talons. Relieving him of his post, Hermione gave him a treat and suppress her giggle as she watched the bird’s mustache-like feathers twitch as he munched on it. He was highly offended when she laughed at him and was not above nipping her.

Her body felt warmer, and her cheeks grew a little red as she turned her focused back onto the plain seal of the letter, knowing just who it was from. The last time she had seen him was two months ago. She was grinning stupidly as she broke the wax seal and unfolded the small note.

 

> _Hermione,_
> 
>  
> 
> _I will be in Britain for a few days. Can we meet for lunch next week?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Viktor_

Her smile was small and and felt nearly giddy as she grabbed a pen from underneath piles of parchments to write back to her friend; her friend who she occasionally slept with while he was in town.

She and Viktor Krum were no strangers to the terms of friends with benefits. The two of them have been fooling around for the last three years. They had kept in touch after the war, which both were relieved to find the other alive after being surrounded by death. While the letters passed back and forth a few months at a time, nothing regularly, they didn’t start their dynamic until she ran into him with Ginny at her Harpies game. When Ginny went off to face off against the other team, she was left with Viktor to watch her fly around on her broom, they had mutually somehow agreed to their current situation.

She swore to Ginny time and time again that the two of them were not _dating_. And at first, her best friend accepted that fact. But now that she was the only friend that wasn’t married, or at least seeing someone, Ginny’s concern grew.

Of course, Hermione played it off. She was perfectly fine.

Right?

When Viktor came to Britain, he and Hermione would hook up in her flat, mostly for the comfortable companionship. Viktor was fit, and he didn’t stop watching her when they were in the same room together. It was obvious his affections were there, but she had said that their flings could only be just that. And the quidditch player agreed, especially that he was in his prime of the game and brought his team to victory quite a few times.

And his large, callused hands would roam her skin as he sweetly made love to her.

Hermione was always excited when Viktor came to town, especially since she would spend some _personal_ time with him.

To hell with it; the shagging was great.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, scribbling down a hypothetical day and time, she signed the letter with her normal stamp from the Ministry. She folded the paper and sealed it with her wand before handing to the owl’s waiting talons.

“See you later, Boris,” Hermione called out as the owl flew from her window, soaring off into the air.

With her heart light and her body humming in sexual excitement, the witch forced herself back into her work.

 

* * *

 

When she came back after the lunch hour—where she certainly did _not_ eat—she marched back over to Theo’s office and opened the door. She found no need to knock.

But apparently she should have.

Her foot was already through the door before she actually took a look inside of the office. The tingling of magic ghosted over her skin as she walked through the _muffliato_ charm and the sudden onslaught of sounds hit her as the door softly clicked shut behind her.

Specifically the sounds of Draco Malfoy moaning Theodore Nott’s name and the distinct _slap_ of flesh meeting together.

Her eyes blew wide and her mouth popped open with a disgruntled squeak. Theo— _Theodore Nott_ —had his shirt unbutton and his glorious chest displayed with the slightest sheen of sweat highlighting his muscles that rippled as he thrusted into. . .

Her eyes slowly trailed down to where Theo’s pants should have been buttoned up, but instead she was greeted with the sight of the little trail of hair that her eyes couldn’t help to follow down into. . .

Draco. . . she should _not_ have been staring. Having an appreciation for Theo and his alluring body was enough. . . but Draco was on his back and stretched across the dark wood of the desk. It contrasted perfectly against his pale skin—

—that was entirely on display. He was stark arse naked. She could see _everything_.

Heat crawled across her skin and her mouth suddenly felt dry.

His chest was hairless and his pink taunt nipples stood out against his skin. Her eyes flickered over the slight, round, redden marks that looked smarted. _Bite marks._

She shivered. _Dear Merlin!_

Hermione wanted to stop herself from staring. She wanted to rip her eyes away from the provocative scene before her and hide in her office. . . or perhaps go home to deal with the sudden wave of desire that flooded through her body, tingling all the way down to the pit of her stomach.

She wanted to trace the trial of Draco’s bite marks with her tongue.

She wanted to. . .

What did she want to do?

Her eyes followed the path of the marks, mapping a route to only one destination. . .

There was a particular bruised looking bite right above the dusting of pale hair at Draco’s groin that Hermione could see the individual indentations of Theo’s _teeth_ . _Holy Merlin!_ She should have not let her eyes wander, but of course she now stared at his cock which looked painfully strained, fully erect, and bobbed with Theo’s thrusts—he was still going?

Had they not heard her come in? Her head felt suddenly light.

But even with this newfound information that she could escape with her dignity intact, her feet didn't move a single inch.

Her attention snapped to Draco’s face at a particular sound that just _made her look_. His cheeks were flushed pink in lust. His lips were apart, his breath rushing between them. And his eyes—his eyes were open and locked onto her.

Heat flooded to her cheeks and down her neck and the prat actually _smirked_.  

Her eyes flew to Theo and he too, was watching her. . .

All while still thrusting.

_Holy. Fucking. Merlin._

She wanted nothing more than to spontaneously combust right then and there.

“Want to join us, Granger?” Draco’s voice was raspy and thick with arousal and yet it was still snarky as his lips pulled into a shite eating grin.

When she fled out of Theo’s office for the second time again, it was Draco’s chuckle that chased her.


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

"—mione?"

"Hello! Earth to Hermione Granger!"

Whatever distorting thoughts she was lost in vanished at the voices trying to gain her attention. Hermione jerked a little, startled by her own name. "Huh? I'm sorry, what?" She blinked, turning her attention to Harry and Ginny, the witch waving her hand in her face.

Hermione frowned at the offending hand and made to slap it away.

"You were spacing out there," the redhead justified with a shrugged as she pulled away, stabbing another piece of chicken from her plate. "More than usual." She pinned her best friend with a stare. . . Like she was trying to read her mind.

Hermione huffed, turning back to her food. But instead her eyes were quickly caught in green, watching her uncomfortably closely.

"You okay, 'Mione?" Harry asked quietly.

"Oh Harry," she sighed. "I'm fine. Just thinking about work."

Work.

Where she walked in on Theo and Malfoy. . .

_Want to join us, Granger?_

She shivered, heat tinting her cheeks pink as her mind continued to drift back to the office. . . and then settling between two wizards; naked and wrapped in their warmth. Her traitorous mind swirled reality with hazy daydreams that refused to dissipate all day. Those two damn Slytherins were stuck in her mind enough so where she considered obliviating herself.

But then she'd forget. . .

She let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. All she needed was some time alone with Viktor and the sudden onslaught of steamy, provocative thoughts will be satisfied and retreat into the depths of her mind and leave her alone. That was what this was all about. . . her lack of sex.

Other than that, she was perfectly fine.

She just needed a shag.

"And we lost her again," Ginny snickered. "Always worried about the Ministry. You should just live there."

Hermione turned her head towards Ginny as she heard _Ministry_ and smiled sheepishly as the girl rose her eyes brow as if she was saying _see?_

"By the way, I'm _really_ sorry," Ginny whined a little.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. "What for?"

"I went with Susan to Diagon Alley." Ginny sighed, glancing at the curly haired witch. "I know I told you that I would help you shop for a dress for the Ministry's Charity Gala. But I forgot and then Harry reminded me _after_ the fact." She glanced to her husband and shot him a glared as if it was all of his fault before turning back to her. "I can't believe I forgot. We should have at least dragged you from your office. I'm sorry," Ginny apologized.

Hermione groaned and her head _thunked_ against the wood table miserably. Harry had the audacity to chuckle and she shot him a dark look. Rolling her head to the other side, her eyes locked onto the redhead and tried to convince her it was fine. "Don't worry, Gin. I forgot about it too. I have to get something next week, or perhaps this weekend."

_If she found the time._

The two Potters stared at her incredulously.

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Erm, Hermione," Harry mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's _this_ weekend, not next."

The witch blinked, trying to process the sudden information that had slipped from her mind. Hermione groaned, placing her head against the table once more. She mumbled something that sounded like _just my fucking luck._ Ginny reached over, patting her shoulder soothingly.

"Don't worry, Hermione! We'll go after work tomorrow! And no," she shot in quickly when it looked like she wanted to argue. "You cannot stay late at the Ministry. I bet we can find something that will excite a certain Quidditch player."

Hermione did not need to look at the redhead to know that she was waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Was it bad that Viktor was so far from her mind? She might have thought of him a few times throughout the day, but it was only to counteract the reappearance of Draco and Theo and the sudden wave and unnecessary need and confusing _longing_ that she refuse to dwell on.

This felt like the most impossibly longest day and all she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

The curly haired witch shot her friend with a glare. "I do not want to dress to impress Viktor, nor anyone else!" she growled, shoving all thoughts out of her head as her mind supplied something _scandalous_ for impressing other wizards— _Ugh_! "And for the thousandth time, me and Viktor are _not_ dating nor will we _ever_ date!"

Ginny just waved her hand, like she was swatting the comment out from the air, but Harry was the one who piped up. "Hermione," he spoke quietly, reluctant to bring up the topic that his wife always tried to shove on his best friend every time they were together. Just at his tone, Hermione turned towards him with a pleading, yet irritated expression marring her face. "Please just hear me out," Harry quickly said before she could open her mouth and hiss at him. "We. . . we just want you happy. You work an awful lot and you've gain and accomplished so much. . . but, what happens when that's not enough? What happens when you realize that you're lonely and want something else? Like a family?"

She should have expected this talk from him sooner rather than later. It was just Harry's nature to worry about everything, like the world still depended on him, and he wanted to keep his loved ones safe and _happy._ Hermione sighed, forcing her emotions to blow out between her lips to keep herself under control.

She was happy.

She _did_ have a lot a gains and accomplished so much.

But she also had so many other plans. So many other things that still needed to be done.

However. . . she will never admit to either of them that when she came home from work every day, sitting in her empty flat and stare at the muggle telly that she felt so. . .

Incomplete.

Perhaps this was why she had thrown herself at work. Something to complete, something to accomplish.

She was excited to go to work, excited to see her co-workers, seeing that she belonged, finally and truly _belonged_ in the Wizarding World. Hell, she loved bickering with Malfoy of all people— _wait, don't think of him right now_! She worked alongside with other muggle borns, purebloods— _Theo and Draco_ —and half bloods and she loved every second of it. Every headache from trying to translate ancient ruins, the annoying pressure she felt behind her eyes from staring at impossibly small script, the cramps in her fingers from scribbling notes. Every moment was a step closer to fulfillment.

But when she got home, she felt detached.

Viktor was always a welcoming distraction, filling the void when needed.

Hermione then shook her head to clear the uncertain thoughts. No, no! She was fine! She was happy.

Everything was perfect.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After dinner with Harry and Ginny, she left before the children came home from the Burrow. She knew once she saw James and Albus, she would curl up with them on the couch and soak up their love, no matter how mischievous they might be at times. She tried desperately to ignore Harry's words that seem the ricochet over her walls in her empty flat. The little witch huffed stubbornly, marching to her bathroom with her thoughts of loneliness abandoned and focusing on two wizards that had her stomach fluttering.

She'll just take a nice, _long_ shower and ignore any emotions that stir inside of her chest and solely keep her attention on the growing tension low in her belly.

But it seemed that she could not deny her thoughts any longer.

When Hermione flooed into the Ministry the next morning, she tried to calm to riot in her stomach. Her mind was racing uncontrollably along with her heart and every single time she blinked, all she saw were two Slytherins in an office, watching her.

Ugh, it was distracting!

She did not need distractions at work!

However, she will not deny that those imagines supplied her very well during her _long_ shower.

But then they decided to stick around when she crawled into bed, exhausted from a day's work and Ginny's grueling hounding about said work. They lingered when her tired eyes stared at her ceiling.

Even so when she glanced at the clock to see it glare back at her; _2:26_ am.

Those thoughts kept her up nearly _all_ night!

A shiver ghosted over her body uncontrollably and the witch groaned miserably. How on earth was she supposed to face them? She worked with Theo every day and Draco at least once a week!

She could see Draco's stupid smirk, curling and doing something else with his tongue and Theo's imploring stare as he moved his hips. . .

_Merlin_! They won't get out of her head!

An ugly frown twisted her lips as she imagine Malfoy teasing relentlessly for _months_ about this. . . _Bloody, fucking Slytherins._

But she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing! Of course Hermione felt humiliated and embarrassed and she ignored the other emotions that hovered in the back of her mind, but she will not let them see how distraught she was about this!

It felt like she was facing the Ministry five years ago all over again when she stepped inside. Squaring her shoulders and hoisting her purse strap over her shoulder, she matched to the lifts.

She found the lift with a few other employees inside, who she greeted with a small 'good morning' and a nod. As long as she could make it to her office, her nerves might calm down a notch. She never saw Theo nor Draco in the morning and she could be relieved by that fact—what she wasn't suspecting was a pale hand to shoot through the closing doors of the lift to stop it.

When the doors slowly rolled opened again to allow the late passenger inside, they revealed Draco _fucking_ Malfoy, standing there in his absurdly expensive robes and his quickly eyes locked onto hers. Her whole spine stiffened and her eyes widened just a little as his lips curled.

She wanted to punch that Cheshire grin right off his face!

"Why, good morning Granger," he purred.

If a glare could kill someone, Malfoy would have been dead a long time ago. But she gave him her fiercest scowl.

"Malfoy," she greeted stiffly.

Draco chuckled at her response, setting himself besides her, ignoring the other passengers in the uncomfortably small space. Hermione kept a firm, fixed stare at the lift doors, trying her best to ignore him while she felt his eyes linger.

The lift jerked and Malfoy pressed his body into her shoulders heavily and she tried to pay no mind, rather unsuccessfully, to the fleeting pressure of his muscles as she jerked away.

"Oops," he teased when Hermione turned to glare at him. Her plan to keep a cool, level head was failing when he was pulling all the stops to be the biggest prat in the _entire_ world. But she did find a little bit of Gryffindor sass when the lift opened as the small crowd filed out.

She would give him a taste of his own damn medicine!

"Oh Malfoy," she sighed wistfully. "I know you can barely keep your hands off of me, but I highly doubt Theo would like sharing."

Oh _god_. . . that was _not_ what she wanted to say! And did she just fucking _wink_ at him?

Her cheeks redden a bit as she watched Draco Malfoy's stupid face spit into the biggest, devious smirk she had even seen.

She cannot believe those words slipped from off her tongue as she watched the lift doors close, whisking Malfoy to a different floor to his own office.

Her face practically felt like it was melting off with the heat of her blush as she rushed into the solitude of her office.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She knew she couldn't avoid them forever.

Hermione had tried to complete every task that she could possibly do without the help of Theo. But then she would pause, her muggle pen hovering over her notes as she frowned and berated herself.

She was acting childish! They were all grown adults and honestly, sex in the Ministry was considered scandalous, but there were more paramount things to worry about! Not school children! There were no points to be taken away, no professors to rat to whom then could give detention.

She had to be mature about this. . . and avoiding them—at least Theo—was pretty damn frivolous.

Draco on the other hand. . . he was the most childlike between the three of them. Every time she had walked out of her office for anything, he was always there. Near the restrooms when she had to pee after consuming way too much coffee. Near the receptionist to pester about documents. Near Ron's office when she had to give him a case that she had borrowed from him last week—Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously and the witched retaliated by sticking out her tongue.

Very mature, Hermione Granger. Well done.

He was like a lingering shadow; an afterthought that was chasing her.

He was determined she wouldn't forget.

Bloody git.

But damn it! Didn't he had a job to do? A potion to brew?

She had more than half a mind to berate him for fornicating in the office. Surely there were other, more _appropriate_ places to take such. . . activities.

She sighed, placing the pen down and rubbed her hand over her face. It was three o'clock and canceled with Ginny, promising her over and over that she will go out tomorrow but she needed to finish this revised, vetoed conditions about a law she and Theo were working on. Which, couldn't be done without Theo.

Lunch was well over and she knew that it would be a good time to peek over. . . and avoid Draco entirely.

With a reluctant sigh, she picked herself up from her chair and with her head held held high, walked all the way to Theodore's office.

When she got to the door, she hesitated. Of course, she felt a little guilty about avoiding Theo and he had given her respected space since he did not barge into her office and demand to get work done. She would normally knock in a rhythmic pattern, but. . . it seemed her Gryffindor courage had fled from her limbs.

Her knuckles rasped against the door in a simple manner.

"Come in," Theo's voice trickled through the wooden door after moment. Steeling herself, she pushed her way inside, she almost heaved a sigh of relief that Draco was not there.

"Theo, I am so—" But when she was about to throw out a greeting, as well as an apology, she froze.

Theo was watching her.

Closely.

Heat manage to find it way to her cheeks and the witch cleared her throat. He impossibly still and had the tiniest of dent in his eyebrows that she would have never picked up upon if she hadn't worked so closely with him, or even became friends at all. Perhaps he was angry with her. . . not at her intrusion yesterday. She knew he would never blame her for that, but perhaps for being a coward?

"Theo, I'm sorry," she whispered cautiously, trying to get her apology out before she blurted out anything ridiculous.

He was sitting at his desk, closer than normal and his shoulders were daught tight. He hands were curled up, resting against his lips as if he was in thought, with his elbows on his desk. But his knuckles were white and he was so tense.

His eye twitched and he let out a shaky breath. "What for, Hermione?" His voice. . . raspy and nearly a growl that somehow sent a sensation that licked its way up her spine.

He sounded. . . _oh fuck_. . . he sounded sexy.

He said her _name_ is a sexy, gravely voice.

Her chest felt constricted and her lower belly ached all the way to her thighs.

But then Theo shut his eyes, more like clenching them as a pained hum emitted from him.

_It doesn't sound like pain_ , her mind supplied. But she shoved those thoughts away.

Hermione tilted her head, confusion and concern replacing her embarrassment. "Theo? Are you alright?" she asked before tentatively taking a step towards him. "Do you need a Healer?"

Then there was distinct sound. A sound that no one could mistake.

_Pop._

Theo made another small hum that managed to vibrate _inside_ of her.

A head of blonde pale hair poked up from underneath the desk and her eyes widen in shock while all the air left her lungs.

Draco Malfoy. . .

Draco Malfoy was under Theo's desk. . . a slight sheen on his lips as he lapped his tongue over them. Draco Malfoy was flushed in the cheeks and his hair disheveled. . . as if Theo had been running his fingers through those pale blond locks.

Perhaps even gripping them tightly. . .

Perhaps even shoving Draco further down. . .

Oh _Merlin_.

Draco Malfoy was under Theo's desk, giving him a blow job.

"Why, Hello there Granger. Back for another show?" Draco's grin was so wide and toothy that at first, she was blown away. Of course he took pleasure in her discomfort but he might even take more pleasure at the own ache she felt consuming her nerves.

But he was never going to know that. _Ever_! She'll take it to the grave.

It took her a moment or two to finally use her mouth other than gaping at the Slytherins. How in the hell did they not look at least apologetic at being caught?

"You two are absolutely ridiculous!" She seethed.

Draco's smirk grew. It was always so _fun_ to rile her up. He watched as a fierce rush of color flooded her cheeks and her damn hair seemed just to puff a little bit like she was trying to make herself more intimidating.

Any normal witch or wizard was always intimidated by Hermione Granger when while she was smiling at them. . . they have never faced with her wrath and Draco simply _relished_ in it.

She sputtered a moment before squaring her shoulders throwing her chest out and stomped her little foot. "Malfoy, get up this instant! Theo and I have work to do!"

Theo reached his hand out, possessively curled his fingers around the base of Draco's head and into his hair to keep him in place. "If I may, Hermione," he was always ever so polite, "remind you that you've had all day to come to my office so we may proceed with work." His green eyes bore into hers as he pulled Draco a little closer. "I will have to wait, sweet witch. Five minutes."

Draco snorted, running his nose along the still impressively hard cock that Hermione could not see. She probably would have combusted on the spot if she did. "Five minutes? You think you'll last that long?"

Theo hummed.

Sputtering at the brush off, Hermione's face grew and even darker shade before growling, "five minutes or else I will _drag_ you out." And then she spun around and marched out.

Draco chuckled, his breath making Theo's purple red member twitch just a bit. "That sounds promising."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hair wet from a cold shower, cheeks warm from what happened _in_ the shower, Hermione Granger huffed as she stared at her ceiling again for the second night in a row.

Theo had made good on his word, the office door opening right as the fifth minute ticked by to reveal an extremely satisfied looking Draco, even though he was one doing the work.

Perhaps he liked it that way.

She and Theo worked a little later than usual, Theo never mentioning he and Draco's encounters that she had stumbled upon and she was grateful. She did not need any distractions, even though she found herself tracing the lines of his shoulders under his button up shirt. He had ordered Thai food for dinner as they poured over their work like it was any other day, working late with his co-worker. Of course, she snapped at him, insisting that he had to pay for her meal since it would supposedly make up for all that she had gone through the past two days. Theo only chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that had her pressing her thighs together shamefully.

But the sound of that chuckle still replayed in her ears, lulling her to sleep around midnight.

However. . .

She dreamed about them.

_Both of them._

Her dreams always started off with Draco.

Hermione was laid out of Theo's dark wood desk; her skirt shoved up around her hips, her knickers somewhere on the floor, and her blouse was under her heaving breasts. Draco stood behind her, slightly leaning over her shoulder as he greedily took in her indecent state of her body. He was naked, just like she had seen him the other day with Theo thrusting into his arse.

Draco started to kiss her neck; licking and nibbling and somehow finding the tender spot right between her neck and jaw that she always let out a startled, glorious gasp as she shuddered.

His pale hand pawed at her breasts, tweaking her nipples sore and sensitive before tickling down her belly. Then he liked to stop at the mound of curls and rub tiny circles with his fingertips. And just when she would think he would dip his fingers between her glistening, wet, nether lips, he trailed his hands under her knees and pulled them up to her chest and then spread them to her side, suddenly exposing her so wide that her whole body flushed red.

Her dreams always started with Draco, but they always ended with Theo.

Theo sat directly in front of her in his usual chair. He would watch them, content in observing at first. When Draco pulled her legs apart, he would whisper into her ear, "Look at Theo."

And of course, she did.

If she could feel mortified and embarrassed as well as completely aroused in this dream, she certainly would be. Theo was watching her, but when her legs were opened to him, his gaze dropped to her exposed sex.

"Look at her pretty pussy, Theo," Draco murmured into her ear as if he was speaking to her and she felt hot all over her body. "She soaked, isn't she? All just for us."

Theodore betrayed nothing. Hermione was beginning to feel more and more self conscious as he just _stared_. But Draco was not the least bit deterred.

"She shaking, trembling, for us, Theo." He licked up her neck before biting her earlobe. "She wants us to touch her—she wants _you_ to touch her. To _fuck_ her."

Theo still had yet to move. After a moment he noticed that she indeed was quaking with need, and she needed it _now._ His green eyes snapped to hers and he tilted his head.

"Is that what you want, Hermione?"

Her teeth were chattering as she arched off the desk when Draco sucked at her sensitive spot again on her neck. She barely managed to open her eyes, locking into Theo's gaze.

"P-please," she managed to beg breathily.

"Say it," Theo demanded softly.

Her throat felt dry but she tried pushing her words out of her mouth.

"Pl-ease. . . inside, I want. . ."

He leaned over her, his green eyes boring into hers. "Say it, Hermione. Say _fuck."_

His lips moved so slowly, so sensually around the word had her staring at them before she shivered. He patiently waited, still hovering. The crude word was not foreign to her, but in this context, she felt shy and unprepared to hear it in his voice.

He wanted it too.

Theo didn't push her, simply waited as she licked her lips and breathing hotly through her mouth.

"Fuck me, Theo."

The ease of her statement made the man grin.

But Theo never gave her what she wanted, but instead, his still grinning face leaned down and ran the tip of his tongue from her arse, all the way to her clit.

That's when she woke up with a pounding heart and soaked knickers.

She glanced at her muggle clock on her night stand.

3:46

"Bloody, _fucking_ , Slytherins," she hissed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She didn't accomplish much sleep, but she found herself at work early the next morning working diligently in her office. She had promised Ginny to go out later tonight for shopping and Merlin be _damned_ if she tested Ginny's temper by getting distracted and letting her work fall behind.

It wasn't like she wasn't a few weeks ahead.

No, not at all. . .

While she had yet to go to Theodore's office for the day, she didn't know if she could face him without imagining herself spread out on his desk. . .

_Fuck_ , she needed to stop losing focus!

" _Say it, Hermione. Say_ fuck."

She groaned miserably and pressed her forehead against the cool wood of her desk. It did nothing to cool her overheated body that just hummed in sexual tension.

Suddenly, there was a knock on _her_ door. She swore her heart did _not_ pick up speed nor did her cheeks flush red. Oh _god_ , it wasn't Theo, was it? She wasn't ready to face him! To hell with it, what if it was Malfoy coming in to tease her? She would throw a stinging hex at his crotch so fast, he wouldn't know what hit him. Or perhaps a wart jinx to his face. . . whichever she spat out first. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed herself to calm down before she finally piped up. "Come in."

When the door opened, it was not the sight of an arrogant smirk, nor the taciturn stare that greeted her. Instead, it was a large build and familiar small quirk of a smile that filled her doorway.

She ignored the way her heart dropped into the acidic pit of her stomach.

Viktor Krum took one look at her face and he tilted his head with the beginnings of a chuckle pulling his lips.

"Surprise," he greeted in a warm voice.

She should be happy—elated even that Viktor was suddenly there, as if sniffing out her sexual tension and came to relieve it. . . but. . .

Hermione forced a bright smile to curl her lips as she stood up and Viktor enveloped her in a familiar, comforting embrace. "Viktor! What are you doing here?" She muffled into his shoulder. "I thought you were coming next week!"

The man chuckled, and she took note that her body did not squeeze in excitement like what happened every time when she heard Theo's laugh. She wanted to do crawl under her desk and never come out when she realized that small fact.

"I came to surprise you," he pulled her body away gently, fondly giving her a chaste kiss on her lips. "Are you free for lunch, little one?"

It took a moment of her staring at him to form some sort of coherent response. He was wonderfully taller than her, and she felt secure when in his strong, athletic arms of his. His skin was tanned from hours of flying in the sun, his muscles rippled when he moved. And he had cared for her. She knew it. Hell, Ginny had been cheering for the two of them to _finally_ get together. Even Ron had tentatively broached the subject with her.

He said he just wanted her happy.

But. . . did Viktor make her happy?

Shaking her head of her inner turmoil, she grinned reassuringly and tried desperately to focus on the conversation between them. "Of course I'm free for lunch; always for you."

_Pfft_ , no wonder why Ginny badgered her over and over again. She flirted with him like there was no tomorrow. . . like there was no one else.

_But there isn't!_

The space under her desk was looking more and more appealing by the second.

Forcing herself to grab her coat from the hook, she faced Viktor with a easy smile on her face. Viktor was comfortable. Viktor was safe. . . and Viktor was also _available_. She snorted to herself at the thought.

There was another thing the Bulgarian was; sweet.

Viktor offered her his arm, tucking her hand close to his large, warm, body and pulled Hermione from her office, barely giving her time to giggle and lock her door.

Perhaps spending some time with him would snap her back into a better headspace. She just needed some carefree time with him.

When the two of the left the office, they passed Theo's office. Hermione held her breath as she watched the door open, revealing Draco Malfoy coming out before shutting the door behind him. He was quick to look up at her, his face grinning, a snarky comment at the edge of his sharp tongue, but then he finally took notice of her companion and frowned.

His grey eyes snapped back onto hers and they narrowed ever so slightly. Irritation coiled inside of Hermione so suddenly that she squared her shoulders, barely brushing past him as she and Viktor walked by.

"Excuse me, Malfoy," she said briskly.

She didn't look back to see his glowering face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She and Viktor went to Muggle London while she silently fumed over Malfoy's irked expression. He had no right to take pleasure in her discomfort; no right to take pleasure from _at all!_ She was pulled from her thoughts as the hulking Quidditch player guided her towards a familiar looking pub and she couldn't help but to laughed. "I'm not surprised."

"They have the best chips," Viktor replied, pulling the door open and lead her inside with a large, warm hand at the small of her back.

"You would think it was the only reason why you come to Britain is because of this small muggle pub."

He glanced back to her and gave Hermione the most cheeky smile. "It is."

She giggled softly and _Merlin_ , it felt so relieving! She was so coiled up tightly with stress that she was ready to snap at any moment. But when Viktor was around, there was a pleasant ease that had calmed her down.

They took their usual spot, ordered drinks and were nibbling on their chips when there was a lull in their conversation. It gave her mind a moment to freely slip away. It was lunch hour. . . She wondered if Draco was in Theo's office. . . Or perhaps Theo went to Draco's. Their lips would tenderly touch in greeting; warm and blooming with love before passion and lust heated their veins, blistering their skin until they ripped off each other's finely tailored robes. . . Draco would claim Theo's lip like the demanding wizard he was; his pale hands would dominate Theo's skin to the point where the quiet man moaned. . .

"What has your attention, little one?" Viktor asked quietly, leaning over the small table to place his hand over hers, stopping her fingers from tapping against her beer bottle.

Hermione started, blinking when she focused her attention back to Viktor. "What?" She then gave huff of a laugh, shaking her head and pulled her hand away from his, which he watched with rapt attention. "I am distracted," she murmured breathily, taking a swig of her beer.

"It seems so," his deep voice hummed in agreement, which always sent shivers down her spine pleasantly, and didn't fail to do so now with the way her own body was demanding a sort of sexual release. When her eyes flickered back to his, his head was tilted and a small, sad smile was on his lips.

"It seems that our time has ended, inevitably."

_That_ was _not_ what she expected. Something was telling her that he did not mean their lunch date.

"W— _what_?" she squeaked.

"You are distracted. . . Distracted by _someone_ ," he clarified.

Before she could help it, her face flushed in mortification and she vigorously shook her head. "That's preposterous!" She argued angrily.

"It is true," Viktor said gently, taking her hand again between his which she didn't bother to pull from again. "You have been looking out the window the entire time, staying absolutely silent." When she opened her mouth to dispute, Viktor simply cut her off. "Your eyebrows are relaxed, showing no sign of worry, but your lip was between your teeth and you have blushed three times now."

At the statement, she flushed all the way down her neck. While she knew Viktor was not as simple minded as most people believed he was—the ones who didn't like him—she simply didn't estimate how perceptive he could truly be. He was right it every single way. Normally on their outings together, she would chatter away and he would listen attentively, because that was just how the two of them were together. His tongue still tripped over English words occasionally, but he never gave her false attention, and never had he said so much to her in one sitting.

However, to be frank, she had no idea if she had been blushing or not, her mind miles away and between two wizards.

"Who is it?" he asked. Hermione could only frown, letting her head fall into her hands. The man across from her chuckled. When she mumbled something, Viktor leaned across the small pub table and tenderly pulled her hands from her face. "Again, little one."

"T-they're in a relationship." _Together. With each other._ _Meaning there was two._ She whimpered again and tried to ignore the fact that it wasn't just one of them she was attracted to, but both! _Merlin_ she was a mess!

Viktor smiled softly, patting her hand gently as if to sooth her.

"Does he know your affections?"

_Affections?_ Ha! She couldn't even imagine herself having affections for Draco. Theo, possibly. But the ferret grated on her nerves far too often that she shouldn't be fantasizing shagging with. Let alone having affections for. Besides, what would she do, truly? Break up the two Slytherins? Of course not!

Hermione couldn't help but to shake her head mutely.

He chuckled softly, releasing her hands and gently lifted her chin with his rough, calloused fingers from years of holding onto a broom. "If your heart is captured then we must end our time together."

It should had stung, and perhaps it did just a little, but relief swelled through her that only made her more distraught at her reaction. This was really happening, wasn't it? But she found herself opening her notoriously big mouth and whispered, her lips brushing against his hand, "one more night." Because she could _not_ go on like this _without_ a shag.

Viktor's warm smile calmed her, if only for a moment, as they silently finished their lunch, leaving her to mull over if she had just ruined something that actually worked in her life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Playing around with Bulgarian Quidditch players, are you Granger?" A familiar voice drawled and she groaned. She didn't want to see the ferret after she had probably destroyed whatever relationship she had with Viktor, although he had assured her that they would always stay friends as he headed back to the inn he was staying at. He promised to meet her at her flat later that evening with dinner.

It was sweet. . . but it failed to make her feel remotely better.

Now she was heading back to her office and of course it was her luck to run into the stupid git. She turned to glare at Draco Malfoy who leaned against the wall next to the door of her office. He was _fucking_ waiting for her! He kicked himself off the wall to literally stalk her way with an absurd humorless smirk on his lips. Her eyes flew upwards just a bit to focus on the space between his eyebrows. She couldn't stand to look at _that_ expression on his face since her dreams have been quite well at recreating his devious expressions.

But it seemed to lack the playfulness that usually softened the expression. It was cold, distant, but she honestly didn't give a shite.

"I fail to see how it is any of _your_ business, Malfoy," she spat. Just how the hell was she attracted to _him_?

Then again, attraction might be a strong word.

While she was drawn to intellect and the ability to hold a conversation, she wasn't blind to see how handsome he was. And Hermione Granger did not fall for just pretty faces. She angrily quirked a brow at him as he stood in front of her office— _cornering her_ —giving her a sneer that did little effect.

"Are you _not_ supposed to be a bright witch?" he retorted back, suddenly grouchy.

She didn't even bristled at the insult like she would have done when she was younger, but she folded her arms across her chest, planting her feet firmly on the ground in a mere replica of a stance she took with him in their youth. She had no idea what he was going on at. Perhaps he was not a fan of Viktor, which was hard to believe because she clearly remember the ferret in love with the silly sport.

"Shove off, Malfoy," she sighed, her anger draining slowly as she turned and waved him away. However, Malfoy then did something that he never did; he _touched_ her.

His hand shot out, wrapping around her bare wrist just before she retreated into her office. Whipping her head around in pure shock, she blinked for a moment. Even he seemed a little startled at his own action. For someone as pale as Malfoy was, she found herself a bit surprised that he practically burned her with his warmth. As his thumb ever so gently ran across her inner wrist, it felt like he was scorching her.

Her only touched her wrist, but her whole body felt on fire with a tingling sensation that crawled through her veins in a slow, burning sensation.

It made her head light and foggy all of the sudden.

It was very different when he intentionally pressed into her the other day in the lifts, but his clothed arm brushed into her covered shoulders! This. . . This was skin to skin contact that she did not know how to feel other than to focus on the little, burning contact of his fingers pressing into her flesh.

Clearing her throat, she ripped her hand away from his loosening grip. "Some of us have actual work to do, _Draco_. So If you'll excuse me." Her shoulder shoved against his as she tore open her door and then slammed it shut against his nose, praying he had not seen the color blooming on her cheeks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, I did the dream and Ministry ball cliche.
> 
> And no, I have no regrets.
> 
> There will be more of Theo in the next chapter and you will allll get what you'all been waiting for. ;)
> 
> I might have mentioned it before that this was supposed to be three chapters total in length, but chapter two grew to be so long, I had to cut it in half. c:


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry you all had to wait! This chapter has been completed for a while now but I have been without a working computer all summer. Here is the next installment and I dearly hope the wait was worth it. c:

 

* * *

**III**

* * *

A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her office chair to stretch out her sore muscles from sitting hunched all day. But it was essential that she finished work far earlier than usual—which was late by any other standard than her own. Waving her wand, the magic displayed that it was three in the afternoon, and Ginny was to arrive at the Ministry at three fifteen,  _sharp,_ and the fiery witch was not above dragging Hermione from her office if she was a mere second late.

The catastrophic disaster of scrolls, memos, reports, quills and pens alike, along with tomes littered her desk that she felt the need to somewhat put all into a more organized mess. . . She had never been this sloppy and she absolutely  _refused_  to make the connection that the condition of her office was a perfect representation of her life at the moment.

Her thoughts mixed with Viktor, then blurred between Theo and Draco and what  _exactly_ was the feeling sitting in her chest stubbornly resisting any chance to be dismissed.

She huffed, cheeks tinting pink as the thought crossed her mind.

Instead of taking the precious moment to go through, sort, and organize her desk—or perhaps her life—she simply decided to shove it into a pile. . . and leave it for another day.

Another swish of her wand said it was five past three.

 _Honestly,_ time would crawl when she actually was leaving  _early._

Ignoring the crisis of her desk, she rose from her chair and grabbed her coat and purse, hoisting the strap over her shoulder before stomping out of her office. She couldn't stand to be in there for a moment more.

As she shut the office door and turned to lock it, her eyes caught green and she felt herself pinned down by the weight of the stare.

Theo was watching her from across the hall. He had some parchment in his hand, his head tilted towards one of the secretaries like he had been speaking to them just a minute ago. But now his eyes were weighing on her, his body turned away from the nameless secretary, effectively ending the conversation, whether it was premature or not.

Hermione's skin crawled under Theodore Nott's gaze. It was both like and unlike what she had walked into earlier in the week.

Unexplainable.

Perhaps, a tiny part of her mind whispered to her, it was sexual. The desire swam in the depths, pooling around the deepest, darkest of the pupil, surrounded by green. But it was the slight narrow of the shape, the hint of furrowed brows that suggested. . . no,  _screamed_  something else. Harden in not anger, like Draco had pouted and threw a bloody tantrum. . . but. . .

Distant.

She shivered again.

His eyes must of caught the movement, because she swore silently to Merlin that his eyes suddenly seemed darken even more and. . . and they have most certainly been watching each other far longer than what was deemed appropriate.

She didn't like it. This rapt attention, this unexplainable stare. This entire bloody  _week_. It was like something had a hold on her heart and it squeezed uncomfortably—guilt.

Wait.

No.

_No._

What in the name of Godric was she doing? Standing in the middle of the Ministry halls where she worked, staring, gazing— _fucking pining_ —at a man who was taken— _by another man!_

There was no reason to stare. No reason to be bloody pine after Theo—Draco?—like she was some love sick teenager.

Theo suddenly took a step toward her and all her thoughts blew away except for the fact that she desperately wished the hall was much longer so she had more time to calm her racing heart to slow down. Get a grip, Granger! There was no reason for this!

None!

His eyes were still locked onto hers— _into_  hers. Her feet didn't uproot themselves, her fingers still wrapped around the handle or the door, tightening painfully with his every step until he stopped before her, breathing in her breath. His scent—clean, seedy and earthy—filled her lungs and spread through her entire body. It made her shiver again and her blood sang.

Fuck it.

Yes, she was pining after him—them—like a bloody love sick teenager.

Even if it didn't make sense.

Neither had spoken when he came to a stop in front of her. The two simply stood there and breathed and stared and then he was lifting his hand, curling it so his thumb was straight and brought it to his mouth as she watched with extreme attention like she was an eagered school girl watching her professor. His eyes never left hers, though her attention had ripped away from his green eyes and was solely focused on his parted lips as he brought his thumb up to his mouth, dragging the pad across his tongue. Hermione simply stood there, all thoughts evaporated and her pupils dilated, following his tongue as Theo licked his thumb and her own hips parted to let out a rush of air between them. That thumb, the very same that was slick with his silva, came closer and closer and she suddenly wanted to bite it—

He smoothed his thumb against her cheek with the slightest pressure, smearing— _searing_ —her skin.

Like a brand.

She was  _branded_.

His thumb stopped just at the edge of her lips and when her mind kicked started, yelling at her to bite— _oh, definitely bite him!_ —Theo was pulling away.

"You had ink on your cheek."

It took much longer than a moment to regain the function her brain. The Slytherin could have just used magic, but _no;_ this was far more entertaining. Theo was still standing close, an amused curl on his lips as she practically gaped at him with a fierce blush on her pretty cheeks. Then his eyes dropped to her bag and coat, cocking his head to the side and the amused curl vanished.

"Leaving early,  _Hermione_?" he breathed.

 _Why?_  Why did he have to say her name like  _that_?

Finally snapping her mouth shut, Hermione took in a breath through her nose, even though her lung only filled with more of Theo's scent. If she was drunk. . . or perhaps anywhere else than at work, she would have smooshed her face into his chest and breathed in deeply.

She managed to clear her throat to tear her mind away from the fantasy. "I am. Though no need to worry about the revisions. I've sent them to Gib's earlier and then I sent the reports back to—"

Theo held up his finger. "Hermione. You and I both know we're weeks ahead of schedule." His eyes flickered to the bag again before taking one step backwards.

Away from her.

She didn't like it.

"Perhaps you're leaving early to spend some time with Mister Krum?"

And there goes her brain function again. She had actually forgot about him in this tense moment with Theo. Viktor, sweet and charming Viktor, meeting her at her flat later that night with take out and one final night. . .

How could she forget?

Oh, yes, a thumb-licking-face-rubbing Slytherin was very distracting. Her cheeks bloomed in color tenfold.

If she hadn't known Theo as well as she did, worked with him for as long as she had, be his friend like she was, she wouldn't have seen it. . .

Theo. . . Theo was. . . Oh Godric, he couldn't be. . . jealous?

"What?" she asked dumbly. "N-no!" She squeaked. Though, it was truly none of his business. "Ginny and I— _shite!_  What time is it?"

"Time for me to bloody drag you out of here by your bushy hair!" a fiery voice snapped. Hermione heaved a sigh as Ginny Weasley stomped through the hall, arms crossed over her chest and fixing her friend with a glare.

Hermione heard Theo chuckle and his breath caressed her skin playfully.

Heat blazed across her cheeks and she knew she was late, but she found herself caring very little about their shopping date and more about Theo's. . .

He couldn't really be jealous? Was her mind just playing tricks on her?

Ginny Weasley took one look at Hermione, face undeniably flushed, eyes wide and dilated, Ginny's lips pulled from the scowl into a sly smirk. This made Hermione blush even further, despite the fact the other witch was most likely thinking of something entirely different.

"Well, well. Does that look mean Hermione Granger had another play date with Viktor Krum?" Ginny waggled her eyebrows.

Hermione stopped short, the color in her cheeks draining just a bit.

Theo shifted his weight. Ginny's eyes snapped to him, her smirk still playing on her lips as she obviously dragged her eyes down his body and then back up to his face.

"Hullo, Nott. Hope you don't mind me stealing away your Hermione?"

She couldn't look at his face, though she felt his warmth leaving as he took another step back.

"She's not mine to keep. Please, be on your way."

Ginny snorted unladylike, very much so like herself when she was around Theo and Draco, usually swatting at them when they were being arses.

"Good," the redhead said, wrapping her arm around her friend before waving at Theo. Hermione dared herself to look up at him and their eyes locked again.

Oh  _fuck_. . .

His green eyes sparked with something so intangible but Hermione's mouth dried. . .

Theodore Nott was indeed jealous. Or  _angry_.

But then he bowed his head slightly, like the pureblood gentleman he was raised to be. "Ladies," he murmured, turning his back to the pair and headed to his office.

"Phew!" Ginny exclaimed, fanning herself. "I always forget how fit he is."

"Honestly Ginny?" she deadpanned, but the girl only laughed.

"Those muscles must be from fighting off all the men. I imagine Malfoy is a hand full as it is."

Hermione wanted to just go  _Avada_  herself.

"A-ah, I hope you don't mind, Ginny. . . I, erm, I'm meeting Viktor for dinner at seven, so I hope four hours is an acceptable shopping time limit."

"Oooh! So I was right!" she elbowed her but then she pursed her lips, critically flickering her eyes over her friend. "Four hours. . . Might be pushing it. But knowing about Krum almost makes up for the fact I had to come up here to physically pull you from your office."

"But I was already out of it!"

"Yes, but you were still late."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't understand how Harry deals with you everyday. I love you, but I am glad I can give you back at the end of the day."

Ginny barked out a laugh.

Hermione sighed, hoping to expel more than just air through her lips. She wanted to push out all of her thoughts that lingered on her co workers, she wanted to forget that she might had possibly ruined something with Viktor and for herself. She didn't want to think about Harry, Ginny, and Ron looking at her like she was missing the big picture right in front of her face. She forced herself to relax in her friend's arm, relishing in the confidence of another woman.

By Merlin, she needed girl time.

"So," Ginny started while they stepped into an empty lift. "Are you gonna shag him tonight?"

Hermione gasped, smacking her hand against the redhead's shoulder. "Ginny!"

.

.

.

They giggled nearly all the way to the muggle shops of Muggle London. The air was cool and a little damp, but Hermione embraced it. The alleyways weren't too crowded since they left a little earlier than the usual rush, to which they were grateful. There were times when they thought they were going to be separated and the squished to the pavement like a hoard ran them over. But they found themselves in a shop, Ginny tapping her foot impatiently as Hermione hid inside the dressing room.

_Knock knock._

"Come out!"

"No."

"Hermione! I bet you look hot!"

She looked hot alright. . . a hot mess.

Hermione chewed her lip anxiously as she stared at herself. Bushy hair was pulled back haphazardly into a braid with pieces of stubborn curls were successful in escaping. Full lips were a bit red from her gnawing on it in her frantic nerves, and she could clearly identify the line of her knickers in the dress.

"Gin. . . I don't know. . ."

"Why? It's the most conservative dress we found without looking like a grandmother and I bet that— _Holy shite Hermione!"_  Ginny squealed, clapping her hands together as Hermione opened the dressing room door. " _This one_! You are getting this one!" Ginny fluttered around her, checking all the angles from how good her arse looked and how the dress hugged her frame. "Granted, I think that red number we saw when we came in would look just as hot!"

"That thing will show more skin than fabric  _thank you very much!"_

Ginny barked out a laugh. "You're such a prude!"

"No," Hermione frowned, gesturing towards the general direction of said dress. "I'm not a slag! That dress is made for going out with the girls to a  _muggle_ club."

"And this one is for taking home a wizard so he can peel it off with his teeth?"

Well that's a thought.

Hermione hummed.

She spun around to stare at herself in the mirror, pursing her lips. Taking home a wizard?

Perhaps two?

Squeezing her eyes shut, she groaned as her brilliant mind supplied oh so enticing. . . Ugh! Why was her mind in the gutter?

"Thinking of Viktor peeling it off you?" Ginny teased with a sly, smug look.

_Viktor._

Hermione inhaled slowly through her nose before slowly exhaling. She should have felt a little guilty. . . Damn it.

Don't think about it.

"You'll certainly catch his attention, that's for sure. But the man could see you in a burlap sack and still whisk you away on his broom."

She had no idea why she was reduced to Lavender Brown tactics about catching a man's attention—wait, no! She was  _not_  trying to catch  _anyone's_  attention! But then looking at herself in the mirror of the muggle dressing room, it was hard to decipher just  _what,_ exactly, she was trying to do with this dress.

Laying on her like a second skin was a midnight blue crew neck dress. It had long sleeves and the entire dress shimmered just enough when she moved. The color complimented her pale skin, especially the slope of her neck. It was fastened in the back with a row of tiny, glistening, crystal clear beads that sat in the perfect arch of her spine. Despite the lack of skin showing, there was a provocative slit up the dress, displaying her leg as she walked. Thank Godric it did because Hermione wasn't too sure if she could walk in it. Though the after the point of her knees, the skirt of the dress did flare out just a bit. It was tight, hugging her curves that she never gave any attention to.

Thank Merlin Ginny came shopping with her. Ginny and Susan were always amped to go and dress her up like a doll because she was utter shite at plucking something off a rack to try on.

The dress looked nothing like it did on the rack, but Hermione was glad Ginny had an eye for this sort of thing.

She would admit to herself that she did look  _nice_.

"This one, then," Hermione said, smiling softly as Ginny clapped her hands together.

"Perfect! Oh, but please, humor me and try on the red dress."

Hermione glared at her through the mirror. "No."

They happily stepped up to the counter and the woman behind the till smiled warmly before packing up the dress neatly and informed the two of the proper care and their return policy. But then Ginny snorted and said if Hermione wanted to return it, she would buy it off her instead.

When they were all paid and Hermione treated Ginny to some ice cream, the pair parted ways. Ginny was off to pick up Chinese food for Harry, since he practically begged for it when she told him she was going to be in Muggle London with Hermione.

But now Hermione was alone with two hours to spare. She didn't feel like going home so instead, she walked around the slightly crowded streets. Her eyes flittered through the many windows of the store fronts, quietly browsing for nothing in particular when she saw it.

There, in the window of the muggle shop, draped over a black silk pillow was a lingerie set. . . that was green.

The image of Theodore's eyes and the chair Draco had gifted her flashed through her thoughts. A blush tickled her cheeks before she huffed and continued walking.

It was just so  _Slytherin._

But as an hour drifted by, she found herself standing outside of the same shop, glaring at the same blasted set.

She could hear Draco's voice as he snarks about her practical knickers.

Hermione opened the shop door and refused to justify anything when she bought them.

.

.

.

Friday evening, a few hours until the gala event for the Ministry, Hermione found herself sitting in front of Ginny's vanity, frowning as the other witch lathered her hair in  _another_  bottle of Sleekeasy. However, she wasn't fretting over the tugs and snags from Ginny's fingers on her hair.

No, she was dreading this.

When she had returned to her flat Wednesday evening with Viktor waiting for her with take out, they found comfort in each other for one last night. He seemed curious of her affections, yet did not pry, thank goodness. Instead, they ate, drank some wine, and between lingering touches and finally melting together for one last moment, Hermione came to terms with the pressure in her chest.

She fancied them.

 _Them_.

To admit that to herself sent her heart into a stuttering, frantic frenzy, and her blood rushed throughout her body much faster than normal that she felt dizzy.

The rest of the week following that night with Viktor proved to be difficult. When sitting alongside Theo through their meetings all day Thursday, she found it difficult to concentrate. They made quiet conversation when waiting for commencement, but the man seemed more reserved than usual and she didn't know why she blurted out the most absurd thing.

She wanted him to know.

To know that she and Vikor were not, nor ever will be a couple.

Of course, she said it casually as possible. . . or so she had thought when Theo stared at her. His lips twitched upwards and he leaned the slightest bit forward and ask, "is that so?"

She swore that she melted.

But then Friday had happened; seeing Theo and Malfoy together. . . not like she had walked in on them before in an inappropriate position, but in a more intimate moment.

Hermione and Theo, along with a few other members of their even growing team, had gone to the potion lab to meet with Draco and his team about the trials for a more efficient Wolfsbane potion. Draco, as professional as ever, breezed through his work with confidence and pride in his team that made her smile.

He wasn't so bad when he wasn't being such a prat.

As the group had broken off a little to walk through the potion lab to mingle with Draco's staff, Theo and Draco had lingered together, with subtle touches, soft smiles, warm eyes.

Hermione never felt like such a fool in her life.

It never hit her so hard that the two of them were, well,  _together._ Rationally, she knew this. Everyone knew this. But when she finally realized that she could possibly fancy them—Merlin help her—she also realized how impossibly smitten they were.

What on earth was she doing, fancying them?

They were together.

Happy.

And let's not forget the fact that they both preferred men.

They wouldn't be interested in her like  _that_.

But instead of wallowing in this sudden bout of stupidity, she smiled. It was tender and soft and while she knew she could never have Theo or Draco—or Theo  _and_  Draco—she was perfectly happy that they had one another.

A rough tug at her curls forced Hermione back to the present with a hiss and glared at Ginny's reflection.

"Don't you start with me, 'Mione. It is a blessing that this potion was invented or else you'd look like a rapid pygmy puff."

.

.

.

Harry Potter was adorable. He walked over to Ginny, complimenting her with a slight redness to his cheeks like he had never seen her in a pretty dress before. He then turned his attention to Hermione, his lips pulling into a shy smile before kissing her forehead.

"You look beautiful, Hermione."

She snorted, reaching up and ran her fingers through his always unruly hair. "Thank you, Harry."

"Yes, yes! We're all _so_ fetching! Now let's go!" Ginny urged and Harry huffed out a laugh. It had probably been awhile since either of them were able to go out without James or Albus, though Ginny was not allowed to drink. "We're meeting Ron and Susan at the venue, along with Luna and Daphne.

They stepped through the floo, greeted by elves and lingering elite members of the Ministry. Hermione could spot Kingsley's deep plum robes through the throng of black and muted colors and she waved when their eyes met, silently promising each other to dance later.

Susan found them first, wrapping her arms around Ginny and Hermione, while Ron clapped his hands against Harry's back affectionately. Then the boys broke apart and Hermione was swallowed in an achingly familiar hold and she couldn't help but the snuggle into his neck a little. Ron's embrace lingered a little, not that Hermione minded, but then she pulled back and fixed his tie with a shy smile. His cheeks were a little ruddy red, but smiled down bashfully towards her.

"You look lovely, 'Mione."

Her expression was nothing but sweet. "And you look as handsome as ever."

They parted with a brief and friendly kiss and Susan cupped Hermione's cheek to give her a chaste kiss as well. She never would take for granted that Ron's wife understood the dynamic she had with him, as well as for Harry and Ginny. Sometimes, just after the war had finished, the three couldn't sleep without the other two in lingering fear of the war. There were many times Ginny and Susan found their significant others in the living room, along with Hermione, all within reach of one another.

But now things were better, but she still relished in their warmth when she could.

Harry often hugged and kissed her, and she reciprocated, and Ron always enveloped his arms around her for longer than normal couples would allow.

But instead, Ginny and Susan were grateful as well that the three would drop whatever they were doing to come to each other aid, no matter how small and insignificant the problem was.

Next she saw Luna, wearing a flowing, rather bright yellow dress with daisies woven into her loose hair and had a string of butterbeer caps along her throat. She was barefoot, however she had always looked earthal. Her wife, Daphne Greengrass, stood next to her in a sky blue silk dress with lace capped sleeves, a smirk pulled at her pretty lips as she watched some of the patrons flinch at Luna's attire at the formal event, practically daring them to say anything rude to the Ravenclaw. She turned her blue eyes towards Hermione, greeting her with a softer smile and an air kiss. Luna, though, swung her arms around her, leaning into her ear.

"There's less wrackspurts in the upper balconies," she breathed, her eyes owlish as she smiled a bit dotty. "You'll find that you'll have the most privacy there."

Hermione blinked at her friend, before giggling and kissing Luna's cheek. "Of course," she replied quietly. It was known to just accept Luna Lovegood as she was.

"You look absolutely stunning, Hermione," Daphne complemented, wrapping her slender arm around Luna's waist. "I swear Muggle fashion is far surpass us."

Luna's fingers trailed over the midnight blue dress sleeve and hummed.

"Well," Hermione tried to hide her snort. "I'll keep that in mind when the next shopping spree with Ginny and she'll drag you along instead of me."

The night continued on in a similar manner. She danced with Kingsley after he fondly kissed her cheeks and reminded her countless times to  _not_  speak about work. So instead she giggled, twirled around, greeting and mingling with other witches and wizards, the plethora of Weasleys that she hasn't seen in awhile. She danced with George twice when he claimed that he had to dance with her in place for Fred, and that it was actually Fred who groped her bum but she swatted him all the same. Angelina laughed, stepping in to take care of her husband and his wandering hands.

Hermione's eyes caught green and every time she saw Theo and Draco, their eyes were locked into her. Even when she was forced to turn away from them as to not be rude to whomever she was conversing with, she still felt their stare. But when she turned back and their gazes clashed again, she tried to make her way to them, only to be swept up once again in either a dance or another blasted conversation about laws and shite.

She wanted to take Kingsley's example and forbid the topic.

Two hours into the night and a few glasses a elf wine in her belly, Hermione still had yet to catch Draco or Theo. She always saw them in the corner of her sight, a lingering reminder that she could not simply forget that she fancied them. But either they were forced to indulge in other's questions or it was her being pulled away to the dance floor.

Now taking Luna's advice—if that was what you could call it—she escaped to the third floor balcony and sighed when she opened the french doors and cool air rushed to greet her. It was dark but she didn't mind it. The faint glow from the party on the first floor gave her enough to see.

"Good evening, Granger."

Hermione bit back a startled gasp as she spun around, her heart trying to crawl out of her throat when she spotted a familiar flash of fine, white blond hair. Her lips snapped shut and shot a haughty glare at the intruder.

"Malfoy!" she hissed. "What do you want?"

_What on earth was he doing here?_

Malfoy's eyes were alight with mischief and his mouth was pulled into a stupid smirk. She had yet to actually see him tonight and she dared not allow herself to admit he looked perfectly fit in the tailored, charcoal suit. He took slow,  _deliberately slow_  steps towards her and the witch narrowed her eyes.

"Oh,  _Granger,"_ he purred and she desperately try to suppress the shiver that tickled down her spine. The way his lips pulled wider into a shite eating grin told her that she was unsuccessful. "You know  _exactly_  what I want."

Suddenly he was  _right there_ , crowding her and ran his nose along her jaw before his lips followed  _oh so gently._

It was like her heart had stopped beating and her mind grew quiet to completely focus on the sensation of his skin lightly against hers. But a loud bark of a laugh from the party down below forced her into action. Hermione sputtered incredulously and managed to get her hands between them to shove him away. Her cheeks were flushed and she furiously tried to ignored the tingling on her skin.

He was  _involved_ with someone  _else._  Someone who was  _male_ , she repeated in her head like the chanting would save her from pressing her nose into his neck to smell him.

"What are you doing?" she asked again sharply, masking her quivering insides.

"Granger, Granger,  _Granger,_ " Malfoy  _tsk'ed_ while stepping so incredibly close that she was inhaling his scent and overly expensive cologne. She idly wondered if he brewed it himself. Berating herself for the useless thought, she shut her eyes and curled her fist, readying to fly it at his  _stupid pointy face._  Then a slight brush against her bare calf made her breath hitch in her throat. Wide eyes flew down, seeing Malfoy suddenly on his  _knees_  and his fingertips dancing against her skin.

This was not happening.

She must have drank too much elf wine and it was indulging on her rather absurd fantasies.

She had to be mental!

Just when she was about to open her mouth and tell off the little ferret for his sheer audacity and. . . and . . .  _Theo!_

Merlin!

What was she going to tell him? Could she look him in the eyes and tell him. . .

A startled gasp escaped her lips when she felt Malfoy give her a hot, open mouthed kiss on her thigh that peeked out from the slit of the dress.

"M-Malfoy!" She all but swatted at him desperately, and his steel eyes flickered up to hers, capturing her gaze. He gave a dark chuckle against her skin and the sound shot all the way up to the apex of her thighs. She jerked back away from him and give the prat her frostiest glare. " _Malfoy!"_ She hissed. "How could you!? What about Theo?"

Malfoy was still on his knees, smirking in amusement as if the distance she created between them wasn't  _enough._  But he thought the attempt was cute.

"Don't be daft, Granger. We both know how you look at us," he purred.

Her mouth popped open, heat rushing through her body and she was fully prepared to argue with him of how wrong he was. . . even if he truly wasn't.

"Now, Draco. You shouldn't call the pretty witch daft."

Her spine stiffened at the new voice, yet one she knew rather well. This was not happening. She could only turn her head to peer over her shoulder.

Theodore Nott stood in the doorway, glasses perched on his nose and his suit jacket was abandoned. Other than the fluffy wave of his hair, he looked nothing of disheveled or dismayed over the fact that he had just walked in on Draco and her. . .

This was not happening.

Blood and heat flooded her cheeks as he simply stood there, as if surveying the scene before him; Hermione looking flushed and Draco still— _still!_ —on his knees in a few paces front of her.

"T-Theo," she squeaked, her entire neck was flushed with embarrassment and mortification— _not lust_ , of course not that. "It. . . This isn't. . . It's not what it looks like!" If she could, she would have bolted from the room and let Theo and Draco deal with. . . whatever the bloody hell this was. But instead, Theo's frame covered the doorway, her only exit.

"It's not?" He simply asked. His voice gave away nothing. No anger, no betrayal. Nothing. His green eyes bore into hers for just a moment and she felt the wind knocked out of her very lungs. Then they lingered over whom she supposed was Draco—who she could  _not_  look at—and the corner of his lips gave into the tiniest twitch of. . . a smirk.

_What?_

This was not happening.

Theo finally stepped into the room; the door that was held by his strong shoulders slid shut with a soft click. He then waved his hand, the tingling of magic whispered over her skin and she tried not to shiver when she felt her own sizzling in her veins at just the mere casting of a simple spell.

Hermione couldn't help but to swallow hard when she realized that Theo had casted a locking charm. The acidic pit of her stomach swallowed her heart as she watched as he took slow, deliberate steps and his eyes never strayed from Draco. With a quirk of Theo's brow, Hermione felt another wave of magic, a muffliato charm, causing goose bumps over her flesh. Her head whipped back to look over at the culprit, Malfoy, who was still on his damn knees with the sneakiness smirks on his face.

"What—"

A warm, slightly calloused hand gently wrapped under her chin while the other arm looped around her waist. She made a startled sound as the fingers against her neck gently rubbed against the slight curve of her jaw before they tenderly squeezed, guiding her head back to bare her throat. Theo's breath tickled her ear and she swore she felt his lips and her back leaned against his warm, broad chest.

"Draco is right Hermione; we  _have_  noticed. And it happens to be that I do like to share with him."

Oh Merlin,  _this was happening!_

Her eyes had found the ferret, who was suddenly looking more sinister as he  _crawled_  closer to her, his smirk still curled on his lips. When he all but licked a small trail up her leg before his nose nudged the hem of her dress and she made another startled squeak, Theo's hands were suddenly gone.

She didn't notice that she was leaning against his body until he stepped away from her and she almost fell over if it wasn't for Draco reaching out quickly and catching her around the waist, though a little awkward with his kneeling form. However, he too was quick to release her once she found her balance.

Theo offered his hand to Draco, who took it and pulled himself up to stand. Hermione watched as he dusted himself off before Theo leaned towards him and placed a kiss on his temple.

She didn't know what was going on, but her body sang at the brief touches and she wondered if this was all a painful joke.

"I apologize, Hermione," Theo said coolly, all the while fixing Draco's tie before his gaze snapped to her. "We shouldn't have touched you without permission."

_We?_

"—but it seems that  _one_  of us is rather  _impatient._ " Theo continued to murmur, though looking at Draco.

The accused let out a snort before looking at her one more. "Watching her squirm was worth it. Plus she tastes sweet."

Hermione bristled at Draco's words and her face grew red, but the retort died on her tongue as Theo pinned her with a stare.

"Say the words Hermione, and we won't touch you. We won't force you to do anything. Tell us now and we will stop and go on like this never happened."

Draco frowned at the very suggestion.

This. . . this was still happening?

"I . . . I don't. . ." She was at a loss of words.

"Listen, Granger," Draco growled in a raspy voice. "We want you, if you haven't figured that out yet. And. . . and we think you want us, too." The slight flush of his cheeks was rare and she couldn't force herself to look away from him.

They wanted her?

Her mind was filled with too many things and the air was stifling and her nose tickled with their scent. Yes. . . she did want them too. ". . .I don't want this to stop." She whispered.

Draco's lips quirked as he stepped closer, reaching and cupping her cheek to pull her closer. Hr breath hitched when his lips met hers and she felt like she was drowning. His mouth was aggressive but she found herself matching his ferocity. When she pulled up for air, Theo swooped in and kissed her too. It was slower than Draco's but he was much more dominant, forcing his tongue into her mouth and she allowed it. When he too pulled away, she felt like she was in a daze, clutching onto Draco's shirt and Theo's arm was around her waist.

They were all close; Theo's breath was against her neck as he pushed his nose into her curls and Draco pressed his forehead against her temple, all breathing in unison. It somehow made everything more  _intimate._ Hermione's nerves were still tingling, yet this suddenly peaceful moment was simply tender that she almost was confused by it. It was like they where a completed puzzle.

Oh  _fuck_ , this was happening.

"Let's head back to the manor," Draco whispered against her skin. She blinked, looking up at Draco and nearly flinched of how close they all were.

Draco looked uncomfortable for a brief moment. "His manor. . .Theo's. . .not mine."

Hermione licked her lips, her mouth felt a little dry. The blond and the brunette were both holding their breath, as if waiting for her answer.

"Okay," she whispered, feeling the rush of air against her skin as Draco and Theo seemed to exhale in relief.

But even with consent, neither moved; their breath tangled together, their skin endless against another.

It was Theo who pulled himself away slowly, his fingertips dragging over her skin, leaving a lingering, tingling sensation through her.

"Let's go. We'll leave the room first." He turned and smirked. "No need to give the Golden Girl a reputation."

.

.

.

Her dreams had suggested that this was what she wanted.

But this was so much more  _vivid_ than what her mind was able to imagine. They flooed into Nott manor and they couldn't stop  _touching._  The stone of the fireplace bit her back when Theo slammed her into the closest surface to snog her for a moment and just when they managed to take five steps towards Merlin knew  _where,_  Draco curled his fingers at the base of Theo's neck where his hair brushed his collar and  _yanked_ him for a heated kiss. Two more steps had Draco  _and_  Theo pulling her closer to kiss her neck and make her squirm.

She was intoxicated on snogging for Godric sakes!

When they finally stumbled in what seemed to been the main bedroom, Hermione was delirious. She didn't— _couldn't_ —look around for just a second as she watched Draco drop suddenly on his knees again. She blinked owlishly at him.

Theo pressed his chest to her back, leaning his chin on top of her head.

"Draco, show her what you want to do to her," Theo whispered. She suddenly thought back to her dream and how it seemed they were reversed. Theodore was obviously in control.

Not that she had a problem either way.

Draco's cheeks were flushed;  _surely_  not because of embarrassment, but in  _anticipation._ He stretched out his arms and planted his hands on the plush carpet and  _crawled_ to her. Theo gently nudged her legs apart with his knee just a bit as Draco settled into the space he created. His molten eyes flickered to hers as he gave her an open mouthed kiss her to bare thigh.

Then his eyes shot to his partner.

"Show her," Theo's quiet voice commanded.

Draco suddenly disappeared under her dress and she let out a startled gasp as she felt his nose against her embarrassingly moist knickers. He took in a deep breath, tickling her as his heated breath exhaled against her. "You smell so  _good,"_ he practically purred.

She jerked sharply as she felt his  _teeth_  grazing her sensitive area through the silk of her knickers. Theo's hands roamed around her body greedily, keeping her still at the same time as Draco continued to tease her with his teeth.

She let out a pathetic whine when he pulled away and she couldn't tell if it was relief or frustration. Her breaths were loud as she leaned her head back against Theo's chest.

"Why Granger," Draco's voice just  _screamed_  that he was smirking. "Are these pretty knickers for us?" He teased her by running his fingernail gently over her clothed sex. The blond prat leaned back, fixing Theo with a heated look. "Come look, Theo. Look at what the pretty witch wrapped herself up with."

Theo was silent as his hands found the fastenings of her dress, unbuttoning so slowly that she  _and_  Draco were getting impatient. Hermione let out a sigh as the material slipped from her body, exposing her heated skin to the cool air. Her chest was heaving from her panting, her breasts strained against the dark green satin, decorated with black lace trimmings in a simple and tasteful design. Her nipples peaked slightly against the silky material and Theo couldn't help but to run his fingers over the buds.

Draco ran his teeth against her again and chuckled when she jerked.

"Such a pretty witch," Theo murmured into her hair. His hands moved from her breasts down her scarred ribs, skimmed her stomach and his fingers skimmed the edge of the panties, pulling them to the one side to expose her.

Draco's tongue lapped at her and she quickly clasped her hand over to mouth to muffle her cry. But Theo chuckled into her ear, taking his strong hands and pulled her wrists to her sides. "Ah, ah, sweet witch, I want to hear you, as I'm sure Draco does as well."

Draco hummed against her in agreement, making her shiver as she gasped.

Mortification hazed around the edges of her pleasure, especially now that she was gasping loudly and moaning in Theo's ear. He didn't seem to mind as he licked and kiss along her neck, finding the spot that made her quiver. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his clothes and Theo's hands immediately cupped her breasts after he growled at her to keep her hands from covering her mouth.

She didn't dare to do so.

Draco lapped at her sex, causing her to lurch a little when he sucked against her pearl and she mewled. Theo's breath was hot as he chuckled. "Do it again, my love. I think she liked it."

The blonde hummed, vibrating her before planting his hands around her thighs. When he did as his lover wanted, Hermione couldn't stop the loud moan. The sensation between her legs was overwhelming, but she was even more conscious of a hard length pressed into her back. When his tongue continued its quest, he was much more aggressive that she was quaking.

"I. . . Oh gods. . .I-I'm. . ."

"Come, sweet witch," Draco growled against her.

"Dr. . . D- _Draco_!" Her back arched slightly as her mouth feel open in at first a silent scream before a string of moans and gasping was cut off from Theo's demanding lips as he rutted against her slightly.

She felt Draco stand, his hands never leaving her skin as they trailed up her body. Pulling her lips away from his lover, Hermione stared at the blonde Slytherin with an unexpected warm smile on his face.

"You said my name," he hummed and she couldn't help a huff of a laugh escape her.

Theo was reaching for Draco. "I want to taste her," he growled, cupping Draco's jaw to plunge his tongue into his mouth. When the two men clashed together, their bodies were pressed into hers and she felt lost in the post orgasm and their searing warmth. They groaned, reverberating through her and she sighed happily. Her mind was a little muddled, but she did not allow herself to him of anything else beyond this.

Her slight fingers found Draco's buttons of her shirt and deftly started to pluck them apart, to the point where he chuckled against Theo's mouth. They pulled away only a little and Draco's lips sought hers and Hermione could taste the odd tang on herself.

He swatted her hands away playfully as Theo started to urge them forward towards the bed. She giggled deliriously as she was gently pushed into the mattress and watched with heavy lidded eyes as Theo and Draco frantically tore at each other's clothing, kissing and sucking and biting the new exposed skin as they went. She watched with wrapped attention as Draco's hand wrapped around Theo's cock and began stroking. They were whispering to one another through hefty panting and Theo moaned against Draco's shoulder.

She didn't feel the slightest bit left out with a goofy grin on her face. Theo and Draco's eyes suddenly snapped to her and they began to stalk towards her gloriously exposed body on the bed.

"You're wearing far too many clothes," Draco purred, reaching around her to lift her a bit and unclasp her bra. At the same time, sh felt Theo's warm hands tugging at the scrap of fabric down her legs. The two tossed them to the side and Draco crawled away from her and sat at the top of the bed.

She blinked in confusion, pouting just a bit of how out of reach was.

But then suddenly, she was flipped over onto her stomach with a squeak and she felt Theo run his hands from her shoulders, all the way down past her bum.

"Such a pretty witch."

Theo pulled her arms back, bending slightly at the elbows so he could thread his arm through them, holding her up. She allowed him to handle her, her body quivering in excitement. His other hand reached around, palming her skin all the way up to her neck, which he held as he pulled back, forcing her body to arch upwards like a bow.

Draco was sitting up against the headboard, smirking as he slowly jerked his hand up and down over his hardened flesh. "I like the view," he chuckled. His eyes locked with Theo's as his lover finally slipped into her.

She made a sound that almost made them both come.

Hermione whimpered as Theo made a sound that practically almost tipped her over the edge. It was a rumbling, growling, purr from deep within his chest and when she squeezed her inner muscles around him, he made the sound again. His pace started slow and she was practically shaking in the need to go faster, and when she try to move her hips a little against his, he chuckled and held her firmly in his arms.

"Don't move, sweet witch," Theo whispered as he tilted her head back even farther, greeting her lips with his own. Hermione let out a whimper against his mouth as he continued his tortuously slow, languid pace.

" _Fucking, bloody, Slytherins_!" She gasped out, clearly frustrated and intoxicated by lust.

Draco chuckled from his spot against the headboard and she glared at him. "Come here," she growled. His pale eyebrow rose, but he humored her by slinking closer to her.

When Theo stopped moving his hips, she wanted to sob, but she was a determined little thing.

The blond chuckled darkly before reaching out to run his hand through her curls, long destroyed from snogging and Theo's fascination with wrapping a fist in them. "Where do you want me?" he asked.

She locked eyes were his, Theo still hard inside of her heat when she tapped the spot slightly under her. "On your back," she breathed.

His expression was a little curious when he laid himself down in front of her, his legs on either side of her body. Hermione couldn't help but to appreciate his porcelain skin, his strained muscles, and of course his slight redden hard cock. Theo allowed her to lean forward, releasing her arms as she planted them on the sheets at Draco's waist. His silver eyes widen just a smidge as she nestled her nose into his light golden curls.

When she licked his erection, Draco let out a breathy gasp. When her lips swirled around the tip, his jerked his hips. When she finally took him all the way into her mouth, Theo's hips snapped against her so suddenly, she let out a cry and Draco cursed loudly at the vibrations on her mouth.

" _Fuuuucckk_!"

Theo didn't move nearly enough for her to tip over the edge, but that was perfectly fine with her. Together, in an odd way, they teased and pleasured Draco, who was withering in the sheets. Theo wouldn't move his hips as Hermione licked delicately for a moment or two, and when she finally took him back in all the way, Theo would thrust so that she would moan and Draco was practically losing it.

His pale hands pawed at her; through her hair, her shoulders, even tried for Theo when they didn't allow him more than a few moments of wet heat of her mouth.

"Fuuck!" he swore again, though in a whine this time. "P—please. Please let me come."

Hermione thought that she liked seeing him like this; bark arched, erection painfully strained and weeping, glistening from her mouth, panting heavily with his molten eyes pleading to her and Theo.

"What do you say, sweet witch?" Theo hummed in her ear.

She turned her head and tenderly kissed his jaw. "I'd say he definitely deserves it."

Draco practically keened in relief and anticipation.

It felt so wickedly good as she leaned herself down again, licking playfully and pushed his cock through her lips once again and she forced herself not to gag as she took him as far as she was comfortable.

Draco was thrumming with a strings of gasping that turned into moans as Theo snapped his hips against Hermione. Theo's grunts against the back of her neck and Draco withering beneath her pooled her own desire much faster than expected, to the point where she was whimpering.

Draco's hands wove themselves into her hair again for some purchase as his curses grew louder and louder.

"I'm coming! H-holy  _fuck, I'm coming_ —!"

A spurt of hot, earthy, seed hit the back of her throat and Hermione wasted no time forcing it down before lapping at slightly softening cock.

Theo's hips slowed down, forcing Hermione to press a little firmer against Draco as their lips met together for a brief kiss.

Theo pulled away, being careful not to hurt either of them and Draco seemed to be in a sort of daze. He reached between him and Hermione, his fingers found her clit with Theo keeping still inside of her and her need hit her tenfold. "You should give her what she wants," Draco rasped with a lazy smirk on his face. "She's so wet for us."

Theo made that rumbling sound again and it tickled her back. "And what do you want, Hermione?"

Oh gods, it was her dream all over again, but she didn't feel nearly as shy as she practically turned to glare at Theo. "Fuck me," she demanded.

.

.

.

She woke up sweating. Her body felt like she was trapped in an oven and roasting. When she cracked her eyes open, she found that she wasn't trapped in an oven, but trapped between two sleeping wizards. Theo had his long arm draped over her and his palm rested against Draco's shoulder. Their legs all tangled together and she couldn't tell where one body stopped and the other began. Draco's face was pressed against her chest, the swell on her breasts. She felt both of their warmed, moist, sleepy breath on her skin and the witch sighed.

It was just too  _hot_.

Her legs felt uncomfortably sticky and everything ached. Although it wasn't terribly unpleasant, it did add to her discomfort. Her hair felt knotted against her neck, back and shoulders and she couldn't help but to huff in irritation.

She heaved a sigh and slowly tried to wiggle herself out from their tangled cocoon of limbs. When her feet found the carpet, she watched as the space she created in the middle grow smaller as the two lovers moved closer to one another, filling the void.

Hermione couldn't help but to smile sadly. Just what on earth  _happened?_  She cannot believe they had. . .done all of. . .

_Fuck._

Was this a fling? She snorted to herself. Of course it was! But she found herself even most in the hole. . . she liked it. Every bit of it. It was wonderful, exciting. . . and fuck. . . it was intoxicating and overwhelming sated.

After a few attempts to find the washroom, finding not one, but  _two_ walk in closets that looked like they could have been bedrooms, she finally found it.

She waved her hand to cast  _lumos_  and flinched when the entire bathroom seemed to be in white marble and silver reflecting back to her in the light. She relieved herself and cleaned her body a bit, as they were too occupied to cast any spells in their hazy of lust and affection. Upon that, she frowned just a bit at the bruises and love bites left on her skin.

Another halfhearted huff.

She found washcloths in the linen closet and ran one under warm water. When she came back out into the room, the two Slytherins had not awakened in her absence. She settled near Theo, spotting the sticky spurts and trail of sperm on his skin. She gently pressed the wet cloth into his skin and cleaned him off. He didn't even stir once. Then she moved to Draco. Hermione gently pried his legs apart and rubbed the flaccid member and his inner thighs.

At first she was sure that she managed not to waken them, but when she finished, her eyes met Draco's silver, sleepy gaze. He was watching her lazily, still half asleep. He gave her the smallest smiles that was purely genuine.

It melted something inside of her and she gulped.

It was too much to hope whatever this was between the three of them was actually a  _thing_.

"Come back to bed, Granger," rasped softly.

Hermione smiled softly instead, leaning over the warmth of his and Theo's body to kiss his lips. Despite his slumber, Draco kissed her back languidly and made the slightest hum. It was lazy and wonderful. She trailed her nose along his cheek to his ear.

"Go to sleep, Draco."

When she pulled away, he was already snuggling against Theo. She returned to the washroom, extinguishing the light and placing the wet washcloth on the rim on the huge tub dominating the room.

With a deep breath, Hermione was quick to gather her scattered clothes over the room and crept to the door. She vaguely remembered where the floor was. She almost felt cowardly. . . but she didn't want to wait for the awkward of tomorrow morning, or the possibility of empty teasing.

With her dress haphazardly on, she left through the floo.

.

.

.

Her bed felt strikingly cool, yet terribly empty.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! The last chapterrrrrr! I hope it doesn't seemed rushed at the end and please ignore the errors; I am posting this as soon as I finished and skimmed quickly over it. If anyone is willing to make any edits, feel free to let me know! :D
> 
> Thank you all so very much for the kind words, kudos and bookmarks!! It means so much to know that readers are enjoying my silly stories.
> 
> Here is the last chapters, my loves, and I hope you enjoy every word of it. c:

 

* * *

**IV**

* * *

 

The sun trickled in through the slight part of the curtains and spread the warmth of morning onto their bed like a loving, gentle embrace.

Theo let out a rumbling sigh, stretching out like a kneazle to catch the rays on his tanned, bare skin. He felt the sheets shift just a little and a small smile graced his lips that he truly allowed to show in the comforts of his home.

It was probably Draco, since he was the light sleeper of the two and rose far earlier before he did. Or. . . perhaps it was Hermione; the sweet witch was no longer pressed against him anymore and he believed that she could had totter off to use the loo.

Unless she and Draco were having a little fun without him; not that he minded.

Oh, how lovely last night had been. Of course, between himself and Draco, the love was tender as well as rough; heavy, as well as soft. But with Hermione, her affections were fierce and undeniable; warm and blazing, just like the sun.

Now Theodore would never considered himself a soggy sap, but given that both he and Draco had grown up in a nearly affectionless and cold home life, they had found their own way with one another now that their families were not involved in their lives any more. Well, perhaps not completely; Narcissa had always shown Draco love, no matter what the situation they had found themselves in. It was why Draco was the more emotional of the two; the more expressive even as a Slytherin. Since Theo's mother had passed away tragically by his own father's wand, Theo was forced to live under Sr Nott's watchful, oppressive, and abusive hand.

But being accepted by someone from the outside? Truly? Theodore was not thick; he knew most of the ministry's population saw him as a fit wizard, alongside with Draco, but fleeting fancies and appreciation to the inbreeding that gave him his looks wasn't what Theo wanted.

Hermione had kissed their scars. She rubbed them tenderly, as if they were still wrapped up in bandages and she was chasing the pain away with her lips. After their passionate and rough fun on the sheets, they had crawled underneath them, spent and sated. Her lingering touches on each others skin was like soothing balm on him and Draco. The sweet kisses were like small apologies that did not need to be given. She was like the sun itself, shedding light in the darkest parts of their past and embracing them with all of her.

She was a connective piece between them, making them whole. Draco and Theo never had another soul with them before, but this witch. . . this witch made them whole.

Draco had been so happy to have cornered her last night. Finally,  _finally_  catching her and melting in their arms as they lavished her with all that they had. He too, felt an elation that Draco could not give him, nor could Theo do the same for his lover.

The bed was still when Theo finally opened his eyes and stared at the heavy, slightly parted curtains that shed the morning light inside. The pillow underneath his head smelled specifically of Draco and just a hint, a bit faint actually, of Hermione. The warmth was still settling in the fibers, telling him Draco had just woken up. Theo shifted his head, peaking at the other side of his large bed. There was no sign of the curly haired feisty witch.

Draco was perched at the foot of bed, his pale back marked with red, angry, love inflicted scratches, faced him. His shoulders were taut and Theo's chest squeezed painfully. He could see his lover clutching the sheets in his pale fists and the brunette knew exactly why Draco was awake and looking disturbingly calm and distraught.

Hermione wasn't in the washroom.

The air felt like it was squeezing his body and an emptiness rushed back into his flesh, solid and suffocating.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Theo murmured quietly.

Draco's shoulders tighten more at the sound of his voice and Theo sighed, moving his heavy limbs to crawl to the edge and scooped his lover into his long, strong arms.

"Damn witch," Draco whispered without any scorn, but with another emotion thick in his voice.

Theo, always the more rational of the two, was a little surprised that Draco didn't immediately jump up, still stark arse naked, find her, and demand why the fuck she left them. He has been angry and bitter, and a bit rash at times that rivaled a Gryffindor when their relationship came into any sort of mess.

But instead, he clutched Theo's forearms, leaning his forehead against his skin and stay silent. He had seen Draco at his emotional worse, at his rock bottom, when the Dark Lord had lived at Malfoy Manor and used Lucius and Narcissa's lives as pawns to keep Draco in line. When their relationship manifested from the fleeting, drunken snogs from their school days, Theo would often wake up to find Draco sweating and crying from his nightmares and had to be administered Dreamless Sleep Draught for a few months after the war. It was only Draco's sheer, unrelenting stubbornness that kept him from becoming addicted. Even when his father was on trial, there were no tears shed, but only staring blankly out the windows in Nott Manor.

It had been a long time since Theo had seen Draco in any sort of pain that wasn't bottled up.

This time Theo felt bitter.

.

.

.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

The muggle clock ticked away as Hermione stood in her living room of her flat, as clean as it could ever be. After waking up confused and wonderfully sated, she jolted in realization that her arms were reaching out for warm skin that was not there.

She had left.

Of course she did. What was between the three of them had been wonderful, amazing, really. But how in the world would that last? Did they even want it to last? She wasn't going to lay around to find out. Now that she allowed herself the indulgence of Theo and Draco, then perhaps she will suck it up and deal with the consequences. A lonely feeling settled in her stomach as she yanked herself free of the sheets and hauled her love bitten body to the shower to erase a wonderful night that rationally she knew would never happen again.

When she came out, she had found herself restless and decided to clean every inch of her flat the muggle way with a vengence for all the dust bunnies that decided to take residence. And most importantly, to distract herself from her fluttering heart and pulsing feelings. She scrubbed, sponged, washed, dusted, swept, vacuumed, and aired out her home with the windows cracked open just a little as she lit some soothing smelling candles. The dishes were washed and dried, her laundry was cleaned, pressed, and hung in her wardrobe, her bedding was washed and slipped on her mattress, the floors shined without a spec of dirt or dust, the floo was cleaned out of months of soot and she restocked the floo powder.

She wiped the sweat off her brow, feeling slightly accomplished and now with nothing to do, her emotions flooded back into her cleared mind.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

The blasted clock said it was two o'clock in the afternoon. Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably, demanding some sort of nourishment after last night of little food, lots of wine, and lots and lots and shagging. She did not eat when she had woken up, feeling sick with guilt and pity for herself for allowing last night to happen. Her spotless kitchen gleamed at her when she walked to the nearly empty fridge. In her storm of cleaning, she threw out most of what little food she kept inside. Her lips pursed and frown as her stomach grumbled unhappily that there was no food to consume. Perhaps she will just go to the market a few blocks down, catch a late lunch and shop for the rest of the pitiful week that she knew will come her way.

Her mind betrayed her and imagined just what would have happened if she was still at Nott manor, curled between two handsome wizards. The first scenario was the worst and her biggest fear that her pride didn't want to be gambled.

Malfoy would stretch himself languidly, rolling closer to her and reached out blindly for even more damn body heat and his hand would rest of her body. Then he would jerk his hand away when his palm touched soft curves and frizzy curls and not solid muscles and shorten straight locks. His eyes would finally peer open and Hermione would hold her breath in either anticipation of a wonderful encore or in fear of a cold rejection.

He would just stare at her.

She would have felt Theo stirring behind her, their backs pressed together. Both he and Theo sat up in the enormous bed and peer down at her small body with the sheets kicked out and they would smile very softly at her so the nerves rolling in her stomach would have calmed a little. But then they would share a glance between them, speaking in silence and then Theo cleared his throat.

"Thank you for last night, Hermione," he spoke in a soft, raspy, morning voice that caused her a repressed shiver. "My house elf will prepare breakfast if you wish and will see you out."

It would have been a sweet, fast blow, but with the past weeks of emotional chaos swirling like a twister inside of her, she couldn't take it.

But then, her mind lurched to a different scene, with her still in bed, still in between two wizards.

She would mumble, snuggling into the soft, expensive downy pillows as she felt ticking kisses on her shoulder. When fine stubble would scratch against her skin, she would groan in a half hearted protest and crack open her eyes. Theo would have been leaning over her, lathering her naked shoulders with morning kisses and then Draco greedily reaching across her motionless form to steal some kisses before planting his own on Hermione as well.

They would wake her up fully and drag her to the ridiculously large bathroom and fill up the even more ridiculously huge tub and languidly kiss each other while washing each other's body lovingly. Then it would either be Theo's stomach or hers that would gurgle loudly and then Draco would laugh and call the house elf. . . while still naked in the warm tub to make them all breakfast.

But Hermione stubbornly refused to allow any scenario to happen and she huffed loudly to herself in her empty, clean flat and glared at nothing and mentally cursing her mind for allowing the agonizing moment of fantasies.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

The clock's insistent ticking echoed through her empty flat and through her hollow body. There was this emotion sitting heavily in the void of her chest she had a hard time acknowledging it and even more so admitting to herself.

Lonely.

Hermione felt lonely.

She huffed, determining that it was only because of the fantastic sex. That was it. But a tiny voice in her head reminded her that she had never felt that way when Viktor left. Merlin, there were times she had left in the middle of the night and never had she felt like this!

And now she was back to square one.

Rationally, she was not stupid. Her sudden bout of feeling left out was because she became attached. She grew feelings and affections for Theodore and Draco when she knew full well that she could not.

But holy  _fuck_.

Last night of the Ministry Ball made her mind foggy and hazed in lust and the pure need to press her body to theirs. When she woke up this morning, alone and in her bed, disappointment sat heavy in her bones. Of course she blushed like a schoolgirl and hid her face in the pillows as she recalled the way they had claimed her and how she claimed them. But she made the decision to leave.

So she better Gryffindor up and accept her actions, even while the guilt for leaving the two Slytherins ate her up alive.

.

.

.

She had issues getting up for work Monday morning. Her bed was too warm for her to leave, the shower was even more so difficult to vacate, and she had stood at her door for a long, agonizing ten minutes before forcing herself to leave her flat.

Her heels clicked soundly on the cool, sleek floors of the ministry. But to Hermione, it only sounded like the rhythm of the damn muggle clock ticking down to the second as she marched to face the Slytherins plaguing her mind. Her hair was pulled into a simple bun, and her clothes were neatly pressed and crisp cleaned. It was the slight bags under her eyes that gave away her distraught that could barely hide behind her light beauty charms and smudges of make up.

She felt like a cornered rabbit. Her eyes bounced in all directions, hoping to not catch sight of Draco and Theo, her anxiety making her heart thump hard in her chest. She mentally scolded herself over and over again not to be some  _tart_  over this! But she ducked her head in the lifts as quickly and as quietly as she could in hopes to not to be noticed.

It seems her efforts paid off, as she opened her office door and snapped it shut without any sight of her once lovers. Her eyes squeezed shut, her back pressed against the door, she let out a long breath through her nose, hoping the calm the nerves churning in her stomach.

It was fine.

 _She_  was  _fine_!

She can get through today, and the rest of days, without her pathetic life crisis like a mature adult she was.

Hermione Granger was a powerful witch in all rights! She will not let any wizards torment her! She will not torment  _herself_ —

"Good morning, Miss Granger."

Her heart stopped working when it suddenly met the acidic pit of her stomach. Eyes flew open and her back straighten off of the door and she was staring at Theodore Nott. . . looking cold, distant. . . and dear Merlin. . . he looked angry. The emotions were thinly veiled. . . far from the taciturn expression he wore in public. He was sitting in her green chair, her desk still in a chaotic mess she had left it Friday afternoon. His eyes were fixed on her, not in a lust filled gaze as it had been last week, but in a frozen vexation that had her suppressing a shiver that crashed down her spine.

She was  _Miss Granger_  to him. . . not Hermione.

Words or any sound refused to come out of her vocal cords, and Hermione only stared at him, feeling like a rabbit again and not a lioness she was known to be. The silence was nearly tangible and charged with so much negative energy that it was choking her. Her cheeks were losing their tinted color, paling when all the man continued to do was watch her.

As the seconds ticked by, she managed to steel herself, bracing for anything that might be thrown her way. Was he here to ask clarify that it was just a fling between them? He did not need to tell her!

But. . .

He looked livid.

Was he angry that she had left? What rational reason was there? Unless. . . unless something happened between him and Draco?

Hesitantly, she licked her dry lips and tried to push a  _good morning_  from her throat, but it seemed that her motor skills were useless at the moment.

"Hello," she finally uttered softly.

"Are you free for lunch?" he asked, and his tone made Hermione flinch. It was hard, cold, and the voice he used with practically everyone else with the exception of Draco, and herself. Hell, he was even less mild around Harry! It was like a whip that had be lashed against her. She shifted awkwardly under his never wavering stare that lost none of its intensity. When all Hermione could manage to do was shake her head  _yes_ , he jerked his chin sharply. "Good. You're taking us someplace muggle."

Hermione bristled slightly at the command and caught herself just before she shot back a haughty reply as the stubborn pride rose itself suddenly from her stomach, but she caught it with her teeth. Theo's tone suggested no argument what so ever. Already this one night fling with Theo and Draco had ruined what odd friendship she had with the man in front of her. Regret was eating her alive! Merlin, she shouldn't had done this!

She wanted to bang her head against her door and groan. What had she done?

Hermione couldn't help but to pipe up. "Us?" she squeaked.

"Draco," he replied, his face slightly hardened and his nostrils flared just the briefest of moments.

Now Hermione was truly scared. She . . . she couldn't have wrecked thing up with the two of them . . . could she? Tearing her gaze away from the general direction of the wizard, she took in a deep breath to gather her wits. Waving her hand, her small purse and coat floated to the hook as she stood awkwardly in the middle of her office and shuffled her feet.

"And . . . where might he be?" she softly asked, looking up at him from under her lashes as if to shield herself from any more scorn Theo might throw her way.

Instead, he was standing from his, well her, seat, not even sparing her a glance. "He is already in the Potion's Lab. We will meet you at noon." Then he was brushing past her, still refusing his gaze to linger upon her once she was dismissed, and was out the door.

The door shut behind with her a soft click.

Merlin. . . what had she done?

Numbly, she came and gingerly lowered herself down into her seat, still warm from Theo. Her shaking fingers idly tidied up the desk into a more appropriate manner, her mind a void of everything else but Theo's angry stare and the lack of Draco. Her eyes were glossed over and blurred her vision as she tried to read the memos that floated on her desk.

An owl tried to greet her from the window and she nearly flinched, the bird was the coloring as Viktor's owl. . . and  _that_  was not something she could deal with at the moment. Instead, it was different owl, affectionately nibbling at her fingertips to try and cheer her up as Hermione let the bird inside. But all the witch could do was to untie the note from his little talons, hand him a treat in a lackluster manner, and stare at the familiar scrawl.

The unshed tears finally leaked, clinging to her lashes and rolling down her cheeks. She needed someone to talk to. To let all of her distraught emotions into the air, to finally let out the whirlwind of her confusion and nerves and worries and . . .

She hiccuped.

Abruptly, she stood from her chair and tossed the unopened note on her desk, the little owl following her and perched on her shoulder. She gathered her work files and purse before fleeing her stifling office where the linger of Theo's distinct scent filled her with every shaky breath she took.

Hermione ignored all of her coworkers who stared at the witch with an owl on her shoulder. She made sure to dry her silly tears and fix her face a bit before storming out into the very exposed halls of the ministry. Inside, she was quivering. Why did Theo want to go to lunch with her? Both he and Draco? The muggle part of it wasn't so odd, having venturing out together before. She occasionally took the pureblood to the muggle world for lunch on their scarce outings, as she rarely took her lunch break. But it was with his coaxing and her growling stomach to get her to normally leave her office. They even did take out once in awhile. She had never brought Draco with them, nor had Theo mentioned his boyfriend in tagging along.

Hermione didn't want to be stereotypical and assume that Theo and Draco did not go into the muggle world when not prompted. . . but she assumed they didn't.

But that wasn't her problem, muggles or not, it was the fact that Theo was angry. And instead of scolding her or blaming her or  _anything_  else, it was a demand for lunch.

Merlin forbid!  _Lunch_!

She had no idea what that meant. Did they want to talk to her about that night? How they didn't want to repeat it? Did they want to tell her they regret it? Did they want to tell her they were drunk and they weren't accountable for their actions? Well, that last one might be a stretch. If anything, Hermione was the one who consumed quite a bit of elf wine.

She groaned miserably, startling some of the other workers as she made her way through the maze of the ministry. The witch needed someone to talk to. She needed her best friend.

When she stepped off the lift, the little owl recognized where it was and took off, paving the way to his owner's office.

She stepped up to the door that was cracked open, knocking once before pushing inside.

Harry Potter was sitting at his desk, a slew of memos and case files decorated his desk haphazardly. His owl hopped up on its stand, hooting softly at Hermione. Green eyes flickered up to meet hers and surprise crossed his face before an affectionate, friendly smile graced his lips.

"Hermione! Been awhile since you visited me." Her best friend glanced at his desk and then shrugged, turning his attention back to her. "Sorry about the mess, but you could have just responded to my lunch invite. . ." he trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as he peered at the witch. "Hermione?"

Harry stood up then, cautiously and slowly, like she was still a little rabbit. He came around his desk to stand in front of Hermione and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "'Mione, what's wrong?"

With a sniff, she pressed her forehead against his chest, seeing how he somehow grew several inches since the war, if that was possible. She took in the comforting scent and warmth as Harry immediately envelop her in his arms.

"Can I talk to you?" she breathed into his shirt.

Harry pulled back a little, his scar peeking out from his unruly hair. "Of course you can. Don't even have to ask that rubbish question."

She let out a small, watery laugh as she delicately swiped the tears trickling silently down her face. She sat herself down as Harry retook his seat at his desk, rolling it so he was next to her. The edges of her files were quite the distraction her fingertips needed and she suddenly could  _not_  look at him.

"It's. . ." she mumbled, her cheeks tinting pink a bit. It all seemed so silly now, bursting into Harry's office, during work and crying to him about her personal problems. He had a family to take care of. . . he did not need her silly frustrations to try and hold onto. Harry had carried the world on his shoulders for so long, he would not hesitate to lift hers as well.

When her eyes sought the floor, Harry reached over and clasped her fidgeting hands with his own. "You can tell me anything, Hermione.  _Anything_."

She sniffed once before nodded, her brain trying to sort out the right words to say to him. Oh, this was not the conversation to have with your best  _male_  friend! "I. . . erm. . ." Her eyes fell shut, swallowing roughly and taking a breath in through her nose.

Harry remembered many times she, Ron, and Harry himself had to use the method of calming themselves after the war. The words seemed too thick and too heavy to roll off their tongues and even more difficult to find a way to simply form the words to speak. After several seconds of Harry sitting so stiffly still and Hermione's deep meditative breaths, she quickly pushed out, "I had sex the night of the ball." she whispered quietly.

Harry failed to cool his surprised expression as his eyebrows rose up into the fringe of his hair. That was not what he was expecting. His eyes glanced off to the side and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Many things popped into his mind; pregnancy, someone hurting her,  _babies_. . . If she was pregnant, then Harry will hold her hand and help her in any way he could.

Once upon a time, Harry would have tossed this conversation to his wife, who reveled in the details of sex, especially when Hermione was involved. But he knew Ginny could be a bit. . . much. So he kept his lips sealed.

Besides, Hermione came to  _him_ , and as her best friend, he needed to listen to her. It has been a while since Hermione Granger was ready to speak about her personal life. For years, Ginny and sometimes Hannah had tried to coax Hermione into speaking about her personal life. . . her intimate life. Not for the glory of details, of course his wife had always enjoyed them, but they were worried about her. She barely let anyone get close to her. She never let anyone in. She would over and over repeat like a chant that she was perfectly fine. The life she had was filled with flings and she claimed she loved the blissfully empty flat and she had all the family she needed in her life.

Harry knew that was a lie.

He had always believed it had something to do with her parents. Her father could never walk her down the aisle if. . . hopefully more like when, she would marry. He could never dance with her, nor could he threaten the poor sod that captured Hermione's heart that if he hurt her, he will skin him alive. Of course her father would be the first in line, in front of Harry himself, then Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan. Her mother would never be able to pass down her wedding gown. She would never be able to do her hair and whisper encouraging words in her ear affectionately, nor joke about grandchildren and how she wanted to spoil them rotten.

Harry felt similar, but only for a brief moment. He never knew his parents, but he had a family. Dudley had even came to his wedding, clasping his hand, smiling a little wanely of all of the magic, but truly happy Harry had found happiness in his life.

He wanted his best friend happy. He wanted her to have the world like she rightfully deserved.

"With Viktor?" Harry asked softly, to keep the conversation going when it painfully lagged after her soft, but abrupt, confession. That had been the wrong thing to say as more tears welled into her eyes.

"No. I ended things with him."

Harry hesitantly nodded. "Okay. So not Vicktor then."

And when he just looked at her, Hermione's lip quivered and the tears started to roll down her cheeks as the words spilled from her lips. Harry's cheeks tinted pink as she spoke of from the very first step into Nott's office a week earlier, to the sneaking glances, to the intoxicating feelings, to Malfoy's and Nott's jealousy about Krum. . . And then to the Ministry's Ball that, thankfully, Hermione kept those details sparingly. But then she spoke about retreating home in the middle of the night and how Nott was waiting for her in her office this morning and how he demanded that she met with him and Malfoy for lunch.

Harry's ears were even flushed along with his cheek, but he had stayed silence as she unloaded all of the past events to him.

"So. . . you mean to tell me you. . . slept with them both. . .?"

Hermione miserably flopped her head against his desk. "I don't know what to do," she mumbled against the wood.

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his already messed up hair. "I dunno, Hermione. How do you feel about them?"

It seemed like a stupid question, considering she must of felt  _something_  for the snakes if she went and slept with them. But then Hermione's face bloomed in color and she let out a sad whine as she lolled her head to the side to peer at him through her curls.

". . . I like them," she admitted so inaudible, like it was taboo.

"Right," Harry gulped again, still unable to digest his best friend sleeping with not one, but two Slytherins. No, perhaps it wasn't the fact that she was developing feelings for Nott that made things hard for Harry to process. . . but it was Malfoy. Who in their right mind would enjoy spending time with that git?

He folded his lips inward to try to keep that comment to himself.

"And have you told them this?"

Hermione shot up in her seat so fast that Harry leaned back into his chair and almost grabbed his wand at the sudden movement in reflex. "Tell them? I possibly ruined their relationship!"

He shook his head. "I mean. . ."

"Telling them might split them apart even further! Merlin, I shouldn't have done this!" Hermione started mumbling to herself over and over, worrying about her actions to the point Harry had to reach over and stop her from pacing in his office.

"Just go to lunch with them. See how things go," he told her firmly.

.

.

.

Hermione left Harry's office five minutes to noon, of course with her best friend shoving her out of his office when her courage hid under all of her nerves and fear.

When she did reach her office, both Draco and Theo were waiting at her door, neither turned to greet her, nor even look at her as her heels clicked against the floors. Her heart squeezed uncomfortably and she desperately wanted a time turner to go back and smack her past self stupid. Seeing Draco. . . he did not looked like a glorified Slytherin Prince. He looked like he had just received his sentence after the war. He was cut off, stoically and just a hint of either anger or depression. Her throat was dry and she too, did not utter a word as she briefly stepped into her office to place the files on her desk and retrieved her coat. When she had emerged, the two Slytherins simply followed her along the halls in silence.

Theo had been smart to choose the Muggle World, seeing as there would be no scandalous reporters trying to get the next scoop and their picture taken at just the right moment to be splattered all over the morning papers.

Oh, in any other time, how she wished she could enjoy Draco's experience in the Muggle world, but her nerves were keeping her from even looking at him. But the blond wasn't even paying attention to the surroundings and mechanically followed Theo and Hermione. His head was bent down, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Not once did he look up to spare her a fleeting glance. He was normally a proud man, a man the hid his emotions and kept his face blank and stark; but walking through the muggle streets, he looked more and more closed off with each step they took towards her favorite little bistro.

When they came up to the small door, Theo took a long stride ahead of her to open the door like the pureblood gentleman he was. She ducked inside, the warmth meeting her, yet it did nothing to soothe her anxiety. Draco followed closely behind, his grey eyes flickering around curiously. It was slightly busy, giving it was lunch hour, but there was a specific table that was oddly empty and Hermione wondered if Theo had used the muggle phone she had gave him a while back and called. . . It was a wonder that he knew where she was going to take them.

"Ah! Hermione! Good to see you again. Hello Theo!" An older woman gushed over the counter as she placed a plate down for a customer. Her jolly voice and merrily greeting only made Hermione wince. "Oh, and another charming fellow?" she giggled, much to Hermione's chagrin, but Theo effortlessly pulled a fake smile on his face.

"Afternoon, Ms. Morrison." Theo gently placed his hand on Draco's shoulder, while the other on the small of her back, gently leading them further inside. The contact felt like a spark of fire and Hermione forced herself to keep herself from shying away from his touch. "We'll be taking our usual seat."

Ms. Morrison didn't bother with his authority, waving the three off with her hand while telling them to enjoy their lunch. Further back into the small bistro they went and Hermione took a seat while Draco and Theo settled next to one another. She watched with rapt attention when Theo had slipped his hand underneath Draco's, curling their fingers together.

That. . . that was good, wasn't it? A small part of her was soothed a little by the small, fond action.

 _Finally_ , they all raised their eyes to meet each other. Draco and Theo stared at her, while she flickered her gaze back and forth between the two. Theo was definitely angry, but it was Draco's expression cause her throat the clog and she found it difficult to swallow. He reminded her of the times after the war. Broken and trying to put the pieces back together but having no more energy to do it. But she did not understand why! It was just one night of sex—bloody fantastic sex, but that wasn't the point. Did it mean something more to him—to  _them_? Mentally, she scolded herself. Let's not gain hope in the smallest form of possibilites. She licked her lips nervously before opening her mouth to start firing a million questions and apologies at them but again was proven to stuff it when Theo pinned her with a glare.

A glare from Theodore Nott made her want to  _Avada_  herself.

"Hello there Theo! Hermione!" a voice jolted her backwards into her seat a little as two cups of tea were placed between them and she glanced up at the waiter, Aaron. He smiled apologetically to Draco. "Sorry there, mate. I've had their drinks memorized months ago. What can I get you?"

Actually she preferred something strong and burning, but she doubt they carried alcohol.

Draco nearly started when the muggle man began to talk to him, but he shrugged half heartedly. "I'll take whatever he has," he calmly said, jerking to Theo's drink. Aaron nodded, before walking away to retrieve Draco's beverage.

The awkward silence thickened the air between the three of them. But the sight of the two wizards holding hands, Theo's thumb dragging over Draco's white knuckles, made her a little less anxious.

But only just a little.

Aaron dropped off Draco's tea and they ordered quietly, Theo suggesting dishes dotingly for Draco when he looked a bit lost. Quite honestly, Hermione did not feel at all hungry.

Her mind was rushing a mile a minute, trying to come up with possible scenarios of why in Merlin's name was she here and why Theo looked severely peeved yet still clasping hands with Draco so it couldn't have been her biggest fear of ruining their relationship. . .

Once Draco had ordered and Aaron had left, they were alone again.

Clearly, she wasn't supposed to be the one to open this horrible conversation they were going to have, if Theo's glare was anything to go by.

It was Draco to break the silent stalemate. He lifted his head again, silver eyes capturing Hermione's. "Why did you leave?" he asked roughly.

The question caught her a little off guard. . . the little tiny bit of silly hope flared enormously in her chest, but then was smothered by guilt of actually leaving for her own benefit of protecting herself and her pride. Asking her that. . . could it mean they had wanted her to stay? Stupid, rash Gryffindor! Did that night really meant that much to them? As much, even more, as she allowed herself to feel that night?

She had felt complete. It was a wonderful feeling; perhaps not because her sexual tension was finally shagged out of her, but the closeness and the bout of affection. . . Logically, her brain argued that Viktor had done the same thing. . . but, damn it, she didn't want to be with  _him_ , but with  _them_!

In her inner turmoil and her silence, Draco's expression shuttered and tried to instill a strong mask to hide his sorrow and anger replaced the gleam in his eyes. Gone was his vulnerability and she was now faced with a Draco Malfoy she knew. "Is it because of the war? Because I'm a Death Eater?" he suddenly spat. Theo had turned to looked at his lover, his jaw set and his fingers curled more firmly around Draco's. When she did digest what he said, her mouth popped open and her weariness suddenly transfigured into sudden absurd vexation and disbelief.

" _What?"_ She stared at him, hard, and incredulously. "Y-you think  _what?"_ It was exceedingly difficult to keep her jaw from slacking. That timid, awkwardly shy part of Hermione retreated and suddenly, she found herself uncontrollably scolding him. "I swear to Merlin, Draco Malfoy, if this turns into some sort of pity party because I didn't bloody well stay and  _cuddle_  you're sorely mistaken!" Her face flushed red angrily as her hair sparked in her irritation. She blinked for a moment, shaking her head as she watched Draco's eyes narrow viciously and Theo's teeth seemed to grind as his jaw tightened. Quickly, the witch raised her hands and waved, as if to swat the words she had just spat right out of the air.

"No, wait," she pleaded softly, but firmly. "I didn't mean it like that." The anger that flew into her chest like a stampede of Hippogriffs took off again just as quickly and replaced with a sincerity that she just  _needed_  to convey to them. "Don't bring up the past, Draco. . . We were children forced to grow up much too quickly to fight a madman's war." She swallowed thickly, wishing she took a sip of her tea. Her eyes found Theo's, holding his gaze before trading to Draco's. "That night. . . it was wonderful. . . but I was a coward. I. . . I didn't want to wake up with the possibility that our night together could go no further. . . a one night stand I wanted to last longer. . ." Her cheeks burned hot at her confession. "Even if it is just that," she quickly stammered, hoping to not make herself look like a lovesick fool. "I can accept it. And. . . and. . it just was bloody hot!" Hermione suddenly snapped. "It makes sense that you Slytherins are comfortable in your cold common rooms. You two were like bloody furnaces! I was sweating! I don't know how you two stayed asleep like that!" she ranted, trying to cover the mortification of her confession and lay out why she had wiggled herself free from between them in the first place. When she noticed the server coming along with their order, she leaned back into her chair, not noticing that she was inching closer them.

Neither of the two men sitting across from her said a word. Though when she did gather her notorious courage, she lifted her eyes to Draco first, who looked slightly taken aback and still a little irritated. Theo, well, his lip had twitched oh so slightly upward at her rant, though still displayed his displeasure at her disappearing act, it seemed.

She blew out a breath through her nose swiftly, still agitated. When she took a sip of her tea to wet her mouth, she licked her lips and shield her eyes under her lashes and away from their heavy stares.

Theo looked up and gave the muggle girl a nod as she set down their sandwiches and chips. Her heart swelled a little bit as Draco too nodded to the girl, who blushed like a schoolgirl and scampered quickly away.

Silence resumed at their table.

Theo sighed loudly, tapping the space of the wood table between them with delicate, aristocat fingers. "Hermione, look at us."

She gulped, lifting her eyes from the plate of food in front of her and to Theo's green eyes. The anger swirling in them had lessened, though she could hazard a guess he was still peeved.

"What made you think that we wanted something as trivial as a one night stand?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders delicately, her eyes falling again to her plate. "I don't know. . . curiosity?"

At that, Draco let out a humorless laugh. "Curiosity? Honestly Granger? We have separately had our own share of witches before finally accepting what me and Theo have now. You honestly believed that we would want a witch between us to fuck and then let her go on her merry way?"

She flinched a little at his words, but Draco continued with a growl.

"No, we don't. That night was not a fucking mistake or a curious shag. We  _want_  you."

Hermione's cheeked flushed a bit pink and heat flooded through her, almost feeling like it was keeping her heavy heart afloat. They. . . they wanted this like she did? When her anxiety bitten lips parted to speak, Theo quickly intercepted.

"Don't over think it, Hermione."

She couldn't stand looking at them; Draco's silver smoldering stare and Theo's warming gaze only made her dizzy.

They want her.

A mixture of emotions balled up and swelled in her chest.

She idly dug into her chips to distract herself, popping one into her mouth and chewed slowly to gather her thoughts. Never had she believed herself to be so thick before all of this. She faced a few lovers before, but never where they Slytherin and never has she been so conflicted and confused in her life. It was utterly exhausting!

"So," she sighed. "What do you want from me?"

Draco smirked and Theo chuckled.

.

.

.

No one seemed to bat an eye when Theo, Draco, and Hermione all walked into her office. By now the other ministry workers knew very well of their dynamic and thought nothing was out of place.

Theo was the sensible one to at least throw a locking and silence charm on the door just as Draco had backed the witch against the wall, pressing his solid,  _hard,_  body against hers. Their lips clashed together and Theo stood back, allowing his lover to ravish out his frustrations with the witch before he join them.

"Does this feel like I don't want you, Granger?" Draco growled against her lips in a mix of lust and frustration she brought upon them. She whimpered when he unforgivingly bit down on her neck in punishment and pleasure. He grabbed her hand, roughly pressing it between them and guiding it to his growing erection. "Does this feel like my body doesn't want you?"

" _Shit_ ," Hermione gasped as the blonde latched his lips and sucked on that particular spot on her neck that made her shiver as he rutted against her hand. "W-wait. . ." she breathed, lightly moving her other hand to gently push against Draco's chest. The man growled, his steely eyes nearly glaring at her but complied with her weak attempt to get some distance between them. Theo stepped closer, tilting his head to the side and wrapped his arm around Draco's waist, who was quivering with need and irritation. He pressed his lips against Draco's ear, gently sucking enough as the other sighed, relaxing a bit.

Hermione licked her lips timidly, watching them with rapt attention before swallowing. "I. . ." She needed to say it before it all went tits up—perhaps literally. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving. . . And I—"

"We're past bloody apologies," Draco's voice rumbled as Theo reached out with his free, large hand and cupped her cheek none too gently to drag her closer to them.

"Far beyond them, Hermione," he hissed against her skin and then his mouth aggressively invaded hers. It all should have sounded frightening. . . but  _dear Merlin_ , did it make her want more. Draco pressed himself against her thigh, greedily and unabashedly rubbing himself against her. Her hands found their way up her two lovers bodies, one hand clutching Theo's hair to deepen the kiss while the other latched onto Draco's hip to give herself purchase and assist in pleasuring the blonde.

It was just so  _hot_. The air around them felt like the Ministry was scorched in fiendfyre. Both Theo's and Draco's body felt like it was made of lava as they ran their hands all over her body, underneath her clothes and burning her skin agonizingly. Their lips seared into her, branding her permanently and the witch was nearly faint all over heavy petting and snogging. The excitement she felt expanded from lust and transformed into adoration and rolled and blended and combined. . . swirling into emotions that hazed through her body, overloading her brain to the point where it ceased to function.

Theo, however, seemed to want to make the most of the little time they had together, started to tear at her clothes. Draco forcibly tore himself away, spinning around and waved his wand to clear the clutter off of Hermione's desk. When he focused back onto the other two, Theo had pulled Hermione's skirt up around her lovely hips, her stockings ripped with his fingers buried inside of her. The blonde Slytherin took a moment to watch Theo pumping his fingers in and out of Hermione's dripping pussy, her thighs trembling and cheeks flushed with Theo pressed his face into her curls, growling about her  _soaking wet pussy_ and  _how wet she was for us._

Her climax was glorious; her mouth parted, a moan was suppressed against Theo's shoulder which he did not approve of. Draco could see the clear line of his arousal before they eyes locked with one another. Taking sure steps towards them, he rid himself of his pants and attacked Theo's mouth hungrily while his fingers fumbled with his lover's trousers. Hermione, still slightly shaking from her first orgasm, was pressed slightly between the two, her lips lovingly traced Draco's shoulder. Once Theo was hard and heavy in Draco's hand, he pulled away, taking the witch with him.

Hermione squeaked slightly when her back was pressed against her cleared desk and Draco was yanking her shirt apart so aggressively, she could hear the little buttons ricochet off the desk and the walls. Her heaving breasts were yanked out of her bra, abusingly sucked and pinched and tweaked and— _oh gods_  she loved it. There were no words spoken between them except dark, promising growls over her skin about  _never leaving again._

Theo pulled his trousers down his legs fully, drinking in the sight of the two of them together. He stepped closer to Draco, pressings he cock between pale cheeks, before reaching around with his long arms and spread Hermione's legs. The witch complied easily and it allowed Theo to take his fingers that were still wet from Hermione's climax and wrap them around Draco's member.

The blond groaned against Hermione's beasts as his lover squeezed, but gasped loudly when Theo guided Draco's dick into her sweet, wet heat. Hermione sighed, her legs shifting to settle at Draco's boney hips and Theo's waist. If that wasn't enough, Theo released Draco once he was sheathed inside and then took a hold on himself, coating himself in her arousal and sliding himself carefully inside Draco.

Draco's gaze was unseeing, his cheeks ruddy red, and his mouth parted wide as he was overloading on  _fucking_ amazing sensations. He was so wonderfully full from Theo, nearly hitting him in the right spot while Hermione enveloped his cock in her pulsing heat that he nearly lost it right then and there. " _Ffffuuuccckkkk_ ," he groaned before latching his lips on a tortured nipple but he could barely focus on his task of punishing Granger when her walls fluttered around him and Theo snapped his hips so fucking hard against his arse.

He was not going to last long  _at all_.

Just when— _just fucking when_ —he was so close, a knock penetrated the sounds of moaning, panting, flesh slapping against flesh, and blood rushing in his ears.

He never wanted to kill someone as badly as he wanted to kill the Dark Lord before.

"Hermione?"

Draco lifted his head, glaring harshly at the door.

Of course it was  _bloody POTTER!_

Hermione's face was completely red with both arousal and mortification and Theo only chuckled against Draco's shoulder before gently nibbling on his skin to behave. Hermione, still laying on her desk in a right state of shaggable, gently waved her hand to split Theo's silence charm slightly.

"I'm alright Harry, but I'm a b-bit b-busy right now," she nearly moaned before shoot a glare at Theo, who reached around and pinched her clit, making her want to spread her legs wide for him, leaving Draco to sink even more inside of her. "I—I—"

" _Fuck off_ , Potter!" Draco snarled at the door.

Theo chuckled.

Hermione's eyes widen as she imagine just what Harry was thinking as she heard a shuffle at the door before the sound of him clearing his throat.

"I—I just wanted to make sure you're alright," came Harry's much quieter voice.

"The sound of your  _fucking_  voice is making my dick wilt like lettuce, Potter.  _So Fuck. Off!_ "

Theo's laughter boomed across her small office.

Hermione's face bloomed in color as she stared at the door, barely managing to call out to Harry to she would talk to him soon before she reached around her body and wrapped her fingers around Draco's tender sack and squeezed warningly. "You know, if you weren't in love with Theo, I would say you fancy Harry with the way he gets under your skin."

Draco hissed at her fingers before swatting Theo's hand away and pinched his own fingers around her fleshy pearl. "You're paying for that," he growled before moaning once as Theo thrust his hips against his arse once more.

"I thought that was entertaining," amusement tinted Theo's voice as mirth shown in his eyes as he reached around and teased his pink nipples. "Potter is a fit bloke. Hermione is right."

The witch smiled smugly through her own haze of arousal. "Imagine Harry inside of you now."

Theo laughed loudly as Draco snarled and glared down at the witch. "I hate you both!"

.

.

.

Hermione did not care that this relationship could possibly ruin them all. Not one bit. She had done so much for Wizarding Britain and if they did not accept her happiness, then she would resign and live out her life to the fullest between two wizards.

But then Draco laughed at her absurdity. The Wizarding World would not cast out Hermione Granger, a war hero who happened to like Slytherin cock. It would take some time getting used to, but Draco and Theo would stand fully behind her to support her, and in front of her to shield her.

They had made their relationship official in the quiet moments in Nott manor after heated coupling and then basked in the tender after glow. But it wasn't until reporters had caught sight of the odd trio in a expensively posh restaurant when their relationship became public. They had knew what they were doing when they had decided to let their relationship out of the restrictions of the Muggle World and their private home life and prepared for it. Hermione was dressed in a stunning emerald color—not because it was Slytherin!—and had sat in the middle of the two wizards during dinner. While they remain appropriate in public, such a display of three known magic folk caught the eyes of nearly everyone in attendance that night. Especially their seating arrangement.

Through fond touching and an wonderful meal, Theo hand pulled something out of his suit jacket, enlarging it and placing the package in front of Hermione once she finished her dessert.

The witch's eyebrows puckered slightly in confusion. "What in the world is this for?" she asked, her eyes capturing Theo's before cutting over to Draco's. When neither spoke a word, she frowned. "Honestly, you two did not need to get me anything," she huffed before inspecting the square box.

It was about the length of her wrist to her elbow, much too large for jewelry, to her relief. She hesitated, but after seeing their anxious faces, Hermione relented and pulled off the top of the gift box.

She blinked, peering down at what appeared to be folded up fabric. When her fingers ran over it to try and push it away to find the intended gift, she shivered. It was cool to the touch and silky.

"They're cooling charmed sheets," Theo said softly.

"So neither of us have to cast it all night long for you," Draco added. Then his lips twitched upwards slightly at the corners wickedly. "Of course, we already tested them out. If you find any stains on them—"

Her hand jerked back. "Ew! Honestly, Draco. You're such a prat!"

Theo took a sip of his wine, gracing the two of them with the slightest, content smile. "Ignore him; he's riling you up."

"It's so easy," Draco teased.

Her eyes settled on the package again, smiling tenderly as she ran her fingertips against the fabric once more. Her skin prickled a bit at the cold sensation, but her mind wildly imagined just how wonderful it would feel against her heated skin. But even as she thought of all the fun things they could possibly do, she was more pleased of the ability to snuggle against them at night and not be over headed by their warm body temperature.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with subdue happiness.

It was Draco who leaned against her, pressing his lips to her temple. "You'll be able to stay the night with us and be comfortable."

"And we can have our way with you when we wake up," Theo whispered against her cheek as he placed a gently kiss against her skin.

And at that moment, a flash went off and neither of a three cared.

After that, they were prepared for the next day when the Prophet was published and released into the world. Thankfully, it was a Saturday morning, which they did not have to go the Ministry for work, but it was the mail that flooded through their windows as owls came in swarms to drop off the post.

Some were howlers, disgracing Theo and Draco's alliance as Death Eaters during the war. They claimed that they were the scum of the earth, and that they had poisoned their beloved Golden Girl. Of course Hermione blasted them as soon as they unfolded themselves as a red letter. It became a game between the three, to see which can destroy the howlers the quickest.

So far Theo was in the lead by one.

Others were mostly ignored because they were so curious and nosey and quite frankly, it was none of their blasted business.

Though, Hermione was a bit nervous when a regal owl had flown inside the manor and graced Draco's side. The blonde slightly paled at the owl, even though he gently rubbed its feathered head in greeting. He took hold on the letter and Theo had gave Draco some space and placed his arm around Hermione's waist. "Draco's mother," he murmured against her temple to answer her silence question.

Draco had placed the letter down, glancing at his lovers across the room. "Mother would like to have us over for tea." Narcissa was currently staying at at the small french chateau that was from the Black side of the family. A nervous feeling fluttered through her, but at Draco's slightly torn face, she nodded.

While facing the Matriarch of the Malfoy family, and the remaining direct Black line with the exception of Andromeda, what would be far worse for Hermione would be facing her friends.

So when Hermione flooed to Godric's Hollow for dinner, she was bombarded by a pregnant redhead witch. "Hermione Granger!" She shrieked, causing Harry to wince and and was relieved that the boys were at the Burrow. As the curly haired witch stepped through the fireplace, Ginny was waving the Prophet around like a blasted flag. One the front page was Hermione in her dazzling dress, sitting between Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy, who both leaned in and place kisses on the witch and then it replayed the action over and over. "You better explain this! I know very well about the damn reporters and catching moments that mean absolutely  _nothing_ , but. . . but this— _THIS!_ —you need to explain to me how the hell did this happen!"

Harry ducked his head down as his wife yelled at his best friend and Ginny caught the movement like a hawk. "Did you know about this?  _Merlin's beard_ , is this true!?"

Hermione lifted her hands, waving them to catch the pregnant witch's attention before she castrated her husband. "It is true. . . " Hermione admitted softly, which caused Ginny to whirl around with wide eyes and the paper hanging limply at her side. "It. . . it is a bit complicated in the beginning. . . but it's true."

Ginny's mouth hung open in pure astonishment before the look morphed into a devious, Slytherin smirk. "Of course it would take two cocks to satisfy you."

"G-Ginny!" Harry squawked, his entire body flushing red. He immediately stood up and turned towards the door. "I can't sit through this conversation."

A bubble of laughter in a mixture of amusement and relief burst from Hermione's mouth as she walked further into the room and allowed Ginny the crude questions. She allowed them as they spoke about Draco, about Theo, about Viktor, about her feelings that were going to burst from her chest. Ginny hung onto every word, not at all angered by the 'hot sexy Slytherins' but a bit sadden that Hermione did not tell Ginny right away. The night went on and dinner was served. Harry joined them, but when Ginny mentioned Malfoy's dick, he simply left in the middle of dinner, food still on his plate.

Later, the night found the two witches sitting on the couch in front of the telly.

Ginny glanced at her best girl friend as Hermione sighed  _happily,_ gazing out the window into the night sky. It was. . . weird. But a warm feeling settled in Ginny's chest. Never had she seen Hermione like this. Perhaps it was content between getting lots of hot action with Theo and Draco's dick, but it was something else. She hummed slightly.

"Are you . . . okay Hermione?" Ginny asked quietly.

Hermione turned to look at her, a dreamy expression filling her face and it made the redhead's breath hitch in her throat.

It was like the way she looked at Harry. . . or the way that Hannah looked at Ron. . . or her dad with her mum.

By Merlin. . . she looked so  _perfectly happy._

"Sorry Ginny," she giggled— _giggled!_ —and tilted her head slightly, resting her cheek against Ginny's shoulder. "I'm just. . . happy."

"Perfectly happy?" Ginny questioned. It was Hermione's favorite reply to nearly everything when it came to her life.

But instead, the witch shrugged.

"No. Just happy."

_._

_._

_._

_fin_


End file.
